In the Business of Misery
by Saoirse Driscoll
Summary: Covet not what you cannot obtain, unless you hold the constitution to persue it, come hell or high water. Connor/OC, Murphy/OC.
1. I: Caught Him By the Mouth

A/N: Story is vaguely set around Paramore's song "Misery Business". I own neither the song, nor the Boondock Saints.

_"I'm in the business of misery,  
Let's take it from the top.  
She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock.  
It's a matter of time before we all run out,  
When I thought he was mine she caught him by the mouth."_

**~Misery Business - Paramore~**

She had known them for what had felt like forever. In truth, it had been little over three years. When it came to it, Laura was more than a little surprised that she had met the twin brothers at all. She rarely visited bars, and had only been new in Boston, not having a job, and not really having much of any place to live. They had helped her. Said that it was only the right thing to do. She looked over at the two of them joking with other patrons at the bar, and smiled fondly, leaning back into the booth. She swirled the dark coloured liquid in her glass somewhat sombrely, her mind going back to the night where she had first met the McManus twins…

_It was dark, the dead of night. Shivering, Laura pulled her thin sweater closer to her, trying to ward of the chill from the November air. Ducking into an alley, the feeling of being followed only intensified, leaving a cold weight in the pit of her stomach. Looking about nervously, she could barely even see the light at the end of the alley, but she could clearly hear the slightly muffled footsteps behfind her. Speeding up, she nearly fell over a bag of garbage, and she winced as something sliced her thigh. Pushing herself on, she kept moving, the ominous feeling getting worse._

_At the end of the alley she had been moving toward, a shadow moved into place. A burly man stood, blocking the mouth of the alley, holding what appeared to be a long metal pipe. Laura could hear it hitting his hand as he played with it, and though she couldn't see his face, she knew that there would be a nasty smile on it. Turning abruptly, she nearly fell into the man who had been following her. He wore black gloves, and was holding a switchblade in his right hand. They were both dressed in suits, and the smaller one with the switchblade wore what appeared to be a black fedora. Gulping, she looked back and forth between them, feeling cornered._

"_W-what d'you want?"_

_The small man laughed. "Money. And perhaps a bit of your time." His smirk bellied his less than innocent request. Laura tried to move away from them, only to be caught by the larger man._

"_P-p-please, if it's money you want, I – I'll give you what I have. It's not much, but it's all I have. Just… let me go, please." She tried to reason with them, and found the knife at her throat moments later._

"_We need compensation if you don't have that much money darling." His oily tone made her cringe, and she struggled uselessly against the burly mammoth who currently held her hostage._

"_Let me go!" Laura yelled, wishing that there was a police officer somewhere nearby, hoping that someone would come and help her._

_The small man leaned closer to her, letting her smell his rancid breath. "Now, there'll be no screaming. This'll be nice and quiet, alright?" He pushed the blade further against her neck, making her wince._

"_I'd suggest ye listen ta the lass." Spoke a voice from the end of the alley, much to Laura's relief._

"_And why would I want to do that?!" The man with the knife bit out sharply, glaring at someone behind her that she couldn't see._

_A light chuckle. "Well, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way." _

"_S'up ta you mate." Spoke another voice, somewhat similar to the first. They were both clearly accented, something British that Laura couldn't recognize. The small man gestured to the large man to drop her, and she fell to the ground of the alley, groaning as the rolled to her feet, moving to the side of the alley, out of reach._

"_Now, I'd suggest fer ye ta move on outta here, got it?" Laura turned to look at the speaker, and was pleasantly surprised to see a fairly handsome man in a black trench coat – he had dirty blond hair, and stood at a fairly average height and build. Standing beside him was another man in the same type of trench coat, about the same size, with dark brown hair. Laura was dragged back into the conversation when the small man sneered at the two of them._

"_You don't even have a weapon!"_

_"Ye want ta fuckin' bet on it?" Spoke the brown haired one aggressively, and the small man seemed to back down._

"_Let's go. We can find plenty of other commission before the night is out."_

"_I'd recommend against that. There is no rest for the wicked."_

_Something in how the blond man said the last phrase terrified Laura, and she tried to merge with the wall as the two cutthroats passed. She closed her eyes, and sank to the ground, shaking from fear and the cold. She could hear footsteps coming her way. Moments later, she heard them stop in front of her, and felt a warm hand on her chin. _

"_Ye don't have ta be scared anymore love." The voice was surprisingly persuasive, and Laura opened her eyes to see her hazel eyes staring into dark blue orbs. Taking in a sudden breath, she tried to move further way from him._

"_Hey, hey! Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt ya! __**We're**__ not gonna hurt ya." He saw her less than convinced look and he sighed. "Would we have spent all the effort savin' ye if we were only gonna hurt ye later?" When she shook her head, he smiled. "Exactly. C'mon, let's get ye up." He offered a hand, and she gingerly took it, still somewhat suspicious. However, she fell into step with them as they walked from the alley._

_It was only when she stumbled that they turned to see what was wrong with her._

"_Oi, Murph, get over here!" The blonde's voice sounded tense, and for a moment Laura wondered why._

"_What is it Conn?" The dark haired man – Murph she assumed – came back as the blond – probably Conn, or maybe even Connor – gestured to her leg._

"_She's got a nasty lookin' gash here."_

_Murph took a look at her leg, and Laura held in her embarrassment of their intense scrutiny. "Fuck. Aye, that she does. We should probably take 'er back ta our apartment, check 'er out." _

"_Ye good fer walkin'? Conn had a worried expression on his face, and Laura looked at him, speechless._

"_What? Wh-why would you be taking me to your apartment, and not to a doctor or soemthing?!" The panic was still evident in her voice, even as she tried to stare them down._

_He shrugged._ "_Eh, ye don't need a doctor fer somethin' this small." _

"_If it was small, you wouldn't be interested in it at all." She pointed out bluntly. "And why would you be taking a perfect stranger back to your home anyway?"_

_"Let's just say we have a soft spot fer the damsel in distress. We're offerin' ta help ye." The dark hair man half glared at her. _

_"And I just met you two, so forgive me if I'm not partial to trusting you!" She glared back, not pleased that they assumed that she needed help - even if it was true._

_"What other choice 'ave ye got lass?" Conn asked, crossing his arms._

_"We-well, I could, uh..." She looked around hesitantly._

_"Yer new in town, aren't ye?" He continued on without waiting for a reply. "Otherwise ye'd not be out this late, in this part o'town. Ye don't have anywhere ta hole up, ye were just attacked by two low lifes, and ye got two strangers offerin' ta help ye out. Tell me, what other options d'ye have?"_

_"The police..." She stammered._

_The dark haired one scoffed. "D'ye really think that'll do any good?"_

_"It's supposed to." She looked up at him, an odd mix of wistfullness and fear on her face. "L-look, if you guys could just, uh, direct me to the nearest clinic, or police station, or something..." Laura paused, not sure what exactly she **would** do. "Uhh... Just, a clinic then."_

_"Lass... jus' come with us. We wouldn't like ta see ye endin' up as tomorrow morning's headline cuz we didn't make sure ye got somewhere safe ta sleep." Conn wheddled, and she shook her head._

_"No. I don't know you guys. I... I'm really glad you saved me and all, but, I-I can manage on my own, thank you." _

_Conn turned to the other man. "Jesus, she's stubborn Murph!" _

"_Aye, I think I like her." Murph chuckled. Laura simply glared at the two of them, crossing her arms across her chest, not liking being mocked._

_Conn smacked the other man, then turned back to Laura. "Listen, wait, what's yer name?"_

"_I don't know yours." Her response was obstinate as before._

"_That's how ye thank people who just saved yer ass?" Murph spoke up, leaning against a wall, and Laura glared at him._

"_Fine. I'm Laura. Now, who the hell are you two?"_

"_Gee, some thanks." He snorted. "I'm Murphy, and this is my brother, Connor." _

"_Brothers?" She asked._

_Connor spoke this time. "Twins."_

_She was taken aback. _"_Er… you don't look it. Not at first."_

"_Hear that a lot. Now that ye know our names, will ye come with us? We're not gonna harm ye in any way, we just wanna make sure yer alright."_

_She paused, considering the offer for a moment, feeling a bit more comfortable with the two of them now that she had names to pin to their faces. "Alright." She finally relented, giving them an equally measured stare. "But I swear, if either of you tries __**anything**__, I'll take your balls off!"_

_They laughed, Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Aye Murph, I think I like her too."_

Laura shook her head forlornly. She had waited three years. Three long years for them to realize that she wasn't just a girl who'd get herself hurt all the time, that she was there for them, both of them. But neither of them noticed. She had to pick up the pieces so many times from their failed relationships that it felt like she was cutting her hands on shards of glass every time she was their shoulder to cry on.

There were things she didn't know about the two of them, things that she was certain they were trying to hide from her. Things that she didn't like being kept in the dark about. They both seemed so light-hearted on the outside, but she had seen the change, felt the change. They had a friend once, a pretty weird Italian named Rocco. About a year ago, he stopped calling, and neither of the twins would tell her what happened. And the two of them would disappear, gone for days on end, and then reappear as if nothing strange had just happened. And, on top of that, there was the rather odd matter of the reappearance of their father, a man she had only barely heard about before his mysterious arrival around the same time Rocco disappeared. As a final oddly mismatched piece to the puzzle was the FBI officer that the two of them hung around, a Paul Smecker. Laura shook her head. It was all too much to process. Especially when she was supposed to be here having a good time.

Especially when she hoped that she'd finally get a chance to be with Connor.

Getting up, she moved through the crowd to get to the bar. About half way there, she saw something that made her stop cold.

A pretty, thin, blonde girl. Flipping her hair, flirting with Connor.

Kissing Connor.


	2. II: Once a Whore, Nothing More

_"Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change.  
Once a whore you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change.  
And about forgiveness, we're both supposed to have exchanged.  
I'm sorry honey, but I passed it up, now look this way.  
Well there's a million other girls who do it just like you.  
Looking as innocent as possible to get to who,  
They want and what they like it's easy if you do it right.  
Well I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!"_

**~Misery Business - Paramore~**

Laura had stopped dead when she saw the blonde kiss Connor. Clenching her fists in anger, Laura kept moving the bar, trying to ignore that Connor went with the other girl, away from the bar, out the door, into the night. Sliding up beside Murphy, she gestured to the door. "What the fuck was that?"

Murphy looked speechless, an open-mouthed grin of astonishment on his face. "Fuck, I dunno. Lucky fuckin' bastard."

Laura paused for a moment, and sighed. "Aye. Lucky fuckin' Connor."

Murphy looked at her. "What, jealous?"

She giggled, shoving him slightly, trying to force a better mood, even while she felt the deadness in her stomach. "I haven't managed to get a guy in all the time I've known the pair of you!"

"Well, none o' the ones ye pick are any good!"

"Oh fuck off Murphy!" She looked down at her watch and cursed again. "Damnit! I've gotta go Murph, it's late. I've got work tomorrow. Look, I'll… I'll call you two sometime, or something."

"Alright, see ya." He waved as she quickly ducked out of the pub. He shook his head. Something was up with her, but he had yet to figure it out.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Laura learned in the coming months that living with Arlene – the pretty little blondegirlthat picked Connor at the bar – was more than a little difficult, not just for Connor. He adored her to the point of worship, and Arlene loved the attention he lavished on her, lapping it up and demanding more with no regard to how that would effect Connor's life. Laura likened her to a vampire, or leech – latching onto a man to suck them dry of what made them alive, leaving as soon as they were only a dry husk of what they had once been. Often times when Laura would call to spend time with both of the twins, Murphy would apologize for Connor's sake, as his twin was 'busy' or 'out'. She never asked for an explanation, and had never been given one. Other times, she would hear Arlene in the background while Murphy seemed to be trying to hold his temper, and though she'd sympathize with having to deal with the girl, Laura would never offer to put herself into that situation, not even for the sake of Murphy's sanity. When she did have to interact with Arlene, she was always extremely polite, all the while wanting to beat some sense into the airhead. Many times Laura and Murphy would share a disbelieving glance as they saw Arlene steamrolling over Connor, demanding one thing or another, and Connor would just accept it, denying that anything was amiss when either Murphy or Laura would bring it up to him. In the face of this, Laura forced herself to bury her jealousy, smile her bright smile, and sit back, watching, critiquing what she saw.

And what Laura saw in Arlene, she did not like at all. There were numerous times where she had cut her visits short simply because she could not stand that girl. She'd give some of the most transparent excuses to get herself out of there, only to kick at the wall outside as she was going. As much as she cursed that girl, she also cursed Connor for being so fucking blind. But there was nothing she could do. Not without rousing his suspicions about her feelings about Arlene, and the feelings she harboured for him. No. She needed to be there for when Arlene fell through. So, she'd be patient.

At the end of two months, in around Christmas, Laura called the cell phone that the twins shared. Connor picked up.

"'lo?"

She giggled at his groggy voice. "Mornin', and Merry Christmas to you Conn! How's livin' with the missus?"

He groaned. "Ugh, don't even… Murph! Take the fuckin' phone. S'too early fer this."

"Hey?"

"Hey Murph. What's up with Conn?" Laura spoke softly, voice filled with concern.

Murphy sighed, and Laura would bet that he was currently running a hand through his hair while he thought about what to say. "Look, Laura… he's just… she's just…"

"What did she do?" She growled out, unconsciously crushing the empty pop can she had been holding in her hand.

"Now, don't be jumpin' ta conclusions…" Murphy was hasty to pacify her, making her think more than before that something had happened.

"Murphy. Explain." Her tone brooked no more avoidance, and when she heard Murphy's sigh, she knew he had given in.

"Look, ye know she's not… the easiest ta be livin' with, but, Conn… he's… he's attached ta her, alright?"

"I knew that - she's got him wrapped around her finger. I just wanna know what's got him so upset. Please, Murphy…" Laura plead.

"She's threatenin' ta dump him."

"Shit. How's he taking it?"

Murphy chuckled. "How d'you think, from his response?"

"Not too well then."

"Typical Connor style." He agreed.

"Want me to come over?" She offered, looking at the clock in her kitchen.

"Sounds good. Da's goin' ta be here soon too. It'll make a bit of a family gatherin'."

"Alright." She picked up her coat from where it hung on her chair. "I'll be there in a half hour. Try and deal with him until then, kay?"

"I still say that hittin' on the head'll solve all our problems…"

"Murphy!"

He winced. "Kiddin', kiddin'. See ya soon Laura." Murphy hung up.

The atmosphere in the twin's apartment was anything but festive. Murphy seemed pleased to see Laura there, a silly grin on his face when he came over to give her a hug. Laura laughed, rearranging the parcels in order to give him a hug back. "It's been a while since I got that good of a hug."

"S'been a while since ye've been here Laura." He pulled back, looking at her seriously. "What's kept ye away?"

"Er, just some work Murphy. It's been a busy few months for me." She grinned at him bashfully, then looked over to the other side of the room where Connor was sulking, watching tv. "Is he still…?"

Murphy nodded. "Aye, pretty much. Can ye talk some sense inta him?"

She sighed, but gave into his pleading look. "I can try Murph. Can't promise anything, but I can sure as hell try." Putting down her parcels on the table, she pulled off her heavy coat and scarf, depositing them on the edge of the couch. With hesitant, soft steps, she made her way to stand by Connor.

"What's going on Conn?"

He glared at the tv, flipping the channel aggressively in response to her question. "Leave me alone Laura."

"But, Connor-"

He cut her off. "No. I don't wanna hear it. Especially not from ye." The channel changed again, from news to a cooking show.

"I haven't even started yet Connor!" Her protest fell on deaf ears.

"All the better then." Another stab to the remote. "Why don't ye go bother Murph, huh?"

She crossed her arms, recognizing all the signs before her. "Oh no. We're not having a repeat of this bullshit. Get up Connor."

"Fuck ye." He wouldn't look at her, moving onto an old black and white Western.

"Get up! Connor MacManus, get your lazy fucking ass off of that couch, right now!" Laura had to work hard to keep the edge of fear out of her voice – there was no telling what he would do if she provoked him, even though she had been told countless times by the both of them that they'd never raise a hand to a woman. She felt a little better knowing that Murphy was watching her from the other room. She had seen the two of them in a bar fight once, and had thanked her lucky stars that they were so dedicated to looking after her, she'd hate to find herself at the wrong end of their anger.

Connor growled, but didn't move, refusing to take the bait. "Fuck off Laura."

She moved directly into his line of sight, turning off the tv. "Get up." She spoke softly, so that Murphy wouldn't be able to hear. Connor glared at her, but didn't speak. "Look, Connor, your brother doesn't even know how to deal with you right now. Please, stop this." She prayed that she could get through to him.

He sighed, and the glare dissipated. "Christ Laura, she wants ta get fuckin' rid o' me!"

_Finally! Progress! _Laura smiled softly at him, sympathy in her every word. "Then prove to her that she shouldn't." As much as she hated to say it, she should be the friend right now, and be more interested in Connor's well-being than her own.

"I don't know how." He seemed completely lost.

"You'll find a way." _If you don't, it wasn't meant to be in the first place._With a haphazard grin, she spoke loudly enough for both of the MacManus twins to hear her. "But, for now! I brought presents!"

As expected, both of them perked up at this statement, and she heard a hearty chuckle from the door. "Ye didn't hafta lass."

"Da! It's good to see you again!" She rushed over to give the twin's father a hug.

"What'd ye get?" Murphy was poking at the plain parcels with unsuppressed exuberance. Laura chuckled. "What d'you think? I got you all some soap." At their astonished looks, she began to place the table between her and the twins before continuing. "Goodness knows that I hafta put up with your reek whenever I go to the pubs with you two – oi!" Murphy had finally managed to catch up with Laura as they raced around the unfortunate table, and put her in a headlock.

"Say it!" He threatened, fingers poised over her ribs.

"No!" She shouted her defiance, to which Connor and Da looked on, amused grins on their faces. Murphy flexed his fingers, making Laura twitched and jerked away from him, giggles escaping helplessly from her lips.

"Say it!

She forced an answer out between her laughs, refusing to give in. "No!"

"Ow! Fuck, no bitin'!" He started to tickle her more ferociously. "Say it!"

Laura was steadily growing out of breath. "N-no!"

"Say it!"

"Fine!" She broke away from Murphy, and sent him a glare as she took in a few deep breaths of air. "Fine, you're not stinky Irishmen. Happy?"

"Will be as soon as you give us our gifts." Murphy smirked at her, and Laura rolled her eyes, sending a quick look over at Connor, relieved to see he seemed to be in better spirits. She pulled the three packages apart, and gave them each to her friends, a tentative smile on her face. When the packages were open, she said, "Wasn't entirely sure what you'd all want, but I figured I couldn't go wrong with some Guinness."

"Aye, that'd be right lass." Da chuckled, sitting back in his chair.

"Thanks Laura." Said Connor, causing a strange fluttering feeling in her stomach which she quickly clamped down on. "We… we got something fer ye too."

The twins brought her into their guest bedroom, Connor covering her eyes and Murphy leading the way. "There. Ye can open yer eyes now." Connor spoke softly in her ear, and with a shiver, she did just that, astonished at what stood before her.

"A bike?! You guys bought me a bike?!" In front of her was a red bicycle, looked to be ten gear, and definitely put her gifts to shame. "I've wanted one forever, but, why?" She looked at the two of them, baffled.

"Ye've done a lot fer us Laura." Murphy said with a grin.

"Aye, an' we knew ye wanted a bike since ye got here. So, why not?" Connor finished.

"Thank you, so much. You have no idea what this means to me…" A creak from the door in the main room interrupted her, and the twins moved to the doorway to investigate, keeping Laura hidden and safe behind them. Again, she was struck with their selflessness.

"Oh, Conn, it's fer ye." Murphy snickered, moving back from the doorway. Connor quickly left the room without a word. Laura looked at Murphy with a raised eyebrow, until she heard the voice from the other room and shuddered.

"Arlene's here?" She whispered to Murphy.

"Unfortunately. Ye plannin' on stayin'?" He whispered back, hopefully.

Laura shrugged, a look of extreme distaste on her face. "Not anymore, sorry."

He sighed. "Fuck Laura, are ye ever gonna tell Conn?"

"Tell Connor what?" She looked at him, puzzled.

Murphy sighed again, shaking his head in defeat. "Nevermind. Ye'll be back ta pick up the bike?"

"And maybe to come drinking with you guys again." She said with a smile.

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "What about us bein' stinky Irishmen?"

Laura laughed. "You're not that bad Murphy. I can stand you for a while. Connor, however, reeks."

He laughed. "Alright, I suggest ye get goin' before the fuckin' fireworks start."

She made another face. "Yeah, alright. See ya. Oh! And tell Connor I said bye." Laura grabbed her coat from the couch, neatly slipping past Arlene and Connor who were deep in discussion, Arlene playing with her hair, and Connor looking down at the blonde, a look of complete devotion on his face. Laura rolled her eyes, bit down on the vile taste of envy, and she waved to Da on her way out.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

January in Boston was bitterly cold, and Laura often found herself wishing that she didn't have a job so far away from her apartment. There wasn't much snow on the ground, but the wind would slice through her as she bicycled to the used bookstore she worked in. Frequently she found that she would have to thaw her fingers over the tiny heater behind the counter when she came in early in the morning. Business was slow, but over the past year she had worked there, Laura had come to love the tiny shop, filled with the strangest and most rare books that could be found. She got good hours, and the owner was nice enough, but rarely showed up. Laura had a feeling that the shallow front to the building had something a bit more nefarious in the back, but she had never intruded, upon her word to the owner, and past experiances. She didn't want to ruin a good thing.

Midway through the month, Laura received a phone call while curled up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate, bowl of popcorn, and a teary chick flick. With an annoyed sigh, she paused the movie and walked over to the phone. Picking it up on the third ring, she said, rather exasperatedly, "Hello?"

"Laura."

She recognized his voice immediately, even though it was completely emotionless and barren. A feeling of acute fear sliced through her, more brutal than the weather outside. It was a struggle to keep her voice even as she replied. "Hey Conn. You haven't called recently."

"She fuckin' dumped me."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Connor. Want me to come over?"

"Dunno." He sounded tired.

"Alright, I'll see you in fifteen." She quickly hung up before he could protest. Grabbing her coat, she picked up her keys, switched off the movie and raced out the door, locking it behind her. It was only when she had gotten a few blocks away from her apartment that she realized that she had forgotten not only her gloves, but her hat, and was likely to get very very cold on the way over.

Feeling stiff from the frigid wind, Laura raised her reddened hand to bang on their apartment down, pain shooting down her arm at every impact. Wincing, she pulled her hands back under her coat as she waited in the unheated hallway. Moments later, the door opened, and Connor blinked, taking in her weary appearance.

"Shite Laura, ye look half frozen!" He quickly pulled her into the room, closing the door behind them, enveloping her in a hug as soon as she got inside. She laughed, relishing the warm feeling. "I feel it too. But, how are you? It's the whole reason I came here."

He sighed, letting go for her to rub his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't fuckin' understand her Laura, I honestly don't." Connor collapsed into the couch, looking morosely at the wall. "She says one thing, then wants another. I can't keep up with the woman!"

Laura sat down beside him, gently rubbing one of his shoulders with her (still cold) hand.

"What happened?"

Connor laughed bleakly. "She said that she didn't want me ta be around ye anymore. Said that I was cheatin' on her with you."

"What?! What would make her think that?" She reeled back at the accusation.

"The trips."

Laura shook her head. "No, I meant, why me?"

"Yer always around." He shrugged.

"Conn, I'm always around cuz I'm your friend! Honestly, she's just… I dunno, being an idiot." Laura sighed, hating to have to make Arlene look good for Connor, again. "Look, if she's worth your time Connor, she'll realize what an numbskull she's being, and she'll come back. I don't think you should even bother with her given what she's done," Connor looked like he was about to protest, so Laura rushed on to pacify him. "But that's your choice not mine. And if she doesn't come back, then it's her loss, not yours."

"I don't see how."

She got up and went to the fridge. "You never do." She whispered remorsefully, then called back, "Hey, d'you want a beer?"

"Not really." Came the apathetic response.

"You're getting a beer Connor." She came back holding two.

"Fine." He took one from her as she sat back down beside him. After taking a draught, he looked her in the eye. "What was it ye said when ye got up?"

"I… didn't say anything Conn."

"Ye sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure Connor. You're just hearing things." _Things I don't want you to be hearing._ She smiled at him. "You really are out of sorts, aren't you?"

He shrugged, immersing himself in his beer.

"Well, you can't stay here moping all day. C'mon, you're not gonna get over her just by sitting on the couch." She smiled at him.

Connor laughed. "Ye been talkin' ta Murph?"

"Nah, but I bet he said the exact same thing." She smiled at him. "Let's get going."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

They were back together within the week, leaving Laura not only jealous, but seriously angry. Surprisingly, Murphy saw the signs, and managed to talked to her before that anger managed to boil over. Laura had relented, again putting her friend's comfort before her own wishes. She would swallow the bitter taste in her mouth any time she saw Connor's happiness, resisting the urge to rip Arlene's eyes out when she saw the girl's smug grin as the blonde stood beside the Irishman. Laura resolved to watch more carefully over the couple, to try to help Connor fix any problems before they had the chance to arise. So, in three months, when they broke up again, over some ridiculously trivial thing that Arlene had made up, Laura again had to pick up the pieces, cursing the evil blonde. Laura spent many hours, late at night and into the early morning, talking with Connor, trying to find a way to rationalize what had happened to him, but she found it just as difficult to explain the girl's behaviour as he did. Luckily for Connor, that breakup hadn't lasted long either, very soon the two of them were back together, and Laura's blood boiled. She didn't confront Arlene only due to Murphy's interference, but she vowed that the next time they broke up happened it would be the last.

Two months later, she again got a phone call from Connor, telling her that he didn't know where he had gone wrong, that Arlene had left him. Holding back a frustrated growl, she told him that she'd talk to him about it a bit later, that she was backlogged with things from work, but she'd be by soon.

However, Laura did nothing of the sort. Instead, she headed to the bar. McGinty's was fairly empty for the time of day, with only a few patrons, for which Laura was glad. Looking around, she found the blond girl fairly easily. Squaring her shoulders, she moved to stand by Arlene, rehersing what to say.

"Look, Arlene… I know we… never got off on the right foot or anything, but I was just wondering…"

Arlene downed her shot, and turned to look nastily at Laura. "What? Oh, the tag-along friend. Out with it already girl!"

Laura staggered back slightly from the other girl's abrupt response, but charged onward nevertheless. "Uh, well, just, what's going on between you and Connor?"

She laughed. "Oh, him."

"Huh?" Laura was confused.

Arlene waved a hand, grabbing another shot. "Look, girly, he's just… an in-between hit, y'know? I don't give a fuck about the bastard, but whenever I'm on his arm, other guys'll look my way. He's convenient at the time, and y'know, I really don't want anyone else to have 'im." She shrugged. "What the fuck is it to you?"

"I'm his friend." Laura said lowly, appalled at Arlene's true nature. "Don't you care if he finds out?"

"Who's gonna tell him sweetie?"

Laura glared. "Me, for one." It was at this time the MacManus twins came into the bar. Murphy saw the girls first, elbowing Connor and pointing at them. They paused in the doorway, not sure if they should go over to see the girls.

Arlene scoffed. "And he'll believe you. That's a laugh. Listen, before you make a bigger fool of yourself, why don'tcha just head on home, go cry into a pillow or something, and leave the idiot to me, alright?"

"You don't own him." Laura was finding it harder and harder to keep up with the other girl's logic.

"Have you seen how he looks at me?" Alrene turned her smug grin toward Laura. "Trust me, he's alllll mine."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Laura balled her hands into fists, striving to remain calm. "This is it. You leave him alone, got it?"

Arlene laughed. "What are you going to do about it then? You've got nothing!"

Both of them remained oblivious to the twin's arrival.

"I've got you. And he trusts me. You're a fucking heartless whore." Laura crossed her arms over her chest as Arlene stood up, getting angry.

"Oh shut up you stupid bitch. You just want what you can't have!" She jabbed her finger toward Laura.

Laura couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What the fuck is your problem?! You're the one who doesn't want anyone else to have him! And you don't even want to be with him to begin with! You're using him!"

"Like you're not!" Arlene scoffed. "Listen here girly, you want just so no other girl can have him, just like me. You're just like me."

Laura grimaced at the accusation, but doggedly continued. "No, I'm not. I actually give a shit about that man – those men. You don't get him, you don't get either of them. And you'll never have him again. I swear it. I am not about to let some low life heartless scumbag like yourself walk in and take over his life for the fourth fucking time. Get lost."

"You can't fucking make that decision for him!" Arlene's voice raised a couple of pitches, and Laura winced.

"I'm not making it for him - I'm making it for them. You don't understand what you're in here. And you don't give a shit about them."

"Oh fuck your self righteous garbage." Arlene grabbed her drink, aiming to pour it over Laura, and only narrowly missed.

"Hey, fucking watch it!" Laura pushed the tispy girl away in disgust. Arlene slapped her in retaliation. The MacManus twins looked at each other and then back to the display at the bar in shock. They couldn't hear what was being said, but they were getting the basic idea. Connor lurched forward to help her, but Murphy held him back.

"Jus'… watch. S'somethin' they need ta work out on their own."

Laura shook her head after receiving the stinging blow. "Don't. Do that. Again." Her eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze on Arlene.

"Go fuck yourself." Arlene slapped her again, which was a very bad mistake. Both of the brothers jolted forward to help Laura, but Laura had already thrown her first punch, across Arlene's jaw. Arlene dropped to the floor with an ungraceful flop, and looked back up, eyes full of rage.

"You fucking bitch!" She placed a hand to her cheek. "You punched me! You psycho **bitch**!" Arlene couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, well, stop using my friends for your-" Laura couldn't finish as Arlene kicked her knees, making Laura hit the bar on the way down. Wincing, she grabbed Arlene's leg and dragged her over, sitting up to punch the other girl. Arlene bit at Laura's arm and pulled on her hair, forcing Laura to back away from the blonde. They both stood up, warily looking at each other again, Arlene looking distinctly worse off than Laura as she swayed on her feet.

Murphy grimaced, and Connor looked over at him. "I'm thinkin' we should be intervenin' right about now."

"All you ever wanted, you disgusting, petty little girl, was to get some attention. Well, you fuckin' got some." Laura spat, kicking Arlene in the stomach. Arlene fell down, landing hard on the ground. Rolling to her feet, she run forward, scratching and biting at Laura. With a disgusted expression, Laura pushed Arlene away from her, and punched her again. This time Arlene stayed on the ground, breathing heavily. Placing her foot on Arlene's sternum, Laura leant down. "So you'll leave him alone then?"

"Fine." Arlene spat out blood with her response. "But you'll fucking pay you bitch. Just wait."

"Whatever." Laura turned away from the girl, feeling extremely tired, but froze when she saw the twins only a few feet from where she stood. "Conn… Murph…" Connor left, looking disgusted, and Murphy followed, seeming confused. Laura chased after them.

Catching up, she grabbed the sleeves of their coats to make them stop. "You… you guys saw that?" She was out of breath.

"Aye. What… what was that about Laura?" Murphy asked her, Connor wouldn't even look at her.

"I… When I heard that Arlene had broken up with Conn again, I… I had to find out why." Laura took in a deep breath. "I... I found her here, and tried to talk to her. I think she was pretty drunk, she said some pretty nasty things."

"Nasty enough ta hit her fer them?" Connor asked bitterly.

Laura looked at him in shock. "They were about you! I was doing this - I went through this - to help... you." Laura rubbed at her eyes in frustration before continuing. "I know this is hard on you Connor, but -"

"I don't want ta fuckin' hear it Laura." Connor shook her off, disappearing into the alley.

"Connor!" She called after him. There was no reply. Laura hung her head in defeat.

"What did she say?" Murphy asked, gently touching her shoulder.

Laura sighed. "She... she told me herself that she never loved him, that she just wanted to use him to get other guys to notice her." Laura hoped that he would believe her.

Murphy simply nodded, surprising Laura. "I wondered."

"What about...? She looked down the alley where Connor had gone, at a loss of what to do. Murphy shrugged. "He'll come out of it. Jus'… give him some time."

"I hope you're right Murphy. I really do."


	3. III: Whispers

_"I'll protect you, don't be scared  
No matter what, I will be there  
I'll be gentle, I'll be light  
These are the words you whispered in the night"_

**~Here I Am - Marion Raven~**

Laura had given it a week for Connor to cool off, then headed over to the twin's apartment to talk to him, and to apologize. She hesitated as she stood in front of the door, momentarily wondering if her impulse to confront her friend was a good one. Gathering her courage, she knocked on the door, the impact echoing loudly in the empty hallway. She fussed with her clothes while she waited, nausea growing in the pit of her stomach. Laura counted to ten, hands shaking nervously as she smoothed a wrinkle from her shirt, listening for any noises behind the door. She could hear foot steps, muffled voices drawing nearer, and quite suddenly the door opened, only a crack, bringing her face to face with Connor.

"Uh, hi." She smiled awkwardly at up him, concealing the tremor in her voice.

"Laura." He acknowledged, expression blank. They stood facing each other in the doorway, neither speaking for a beat. Connor didn't open the door any wider, and didn't offer anything further to the conversation. The quiet grew oppressive, and Laura dropped her gaze as his eyes bored into her. She clenched then unclenched her fists a few times, trying to stifle the anxiety she felt, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Connor.

"Um, can … can I come in?"

Laura faltered as he stood staring at her, saying nothing. She couldn't see what was going on behind his eyes, couldn't determine his mood or thoughts. She was about to ask again when he nodded in response, and held the door open for her, moving aside so she could come into the apartment. She smiled toward Murphy who was in the kitchen, leaning against the sink with a beer in his hand. He nodded back, a smile on his face while he took a drink.

"What did you want?"

Connor's abrupt question took Laura by surprise, and she turned to look at the Irishman. "I, er, I'm sorry?" It wasn't an apology. He didn't reply, reading her expression with mute derision. She shivered, and tried again. "Look, Connor…" She ran a hand through her hair, pulling back a loose strand from her face. "I… I didn't really come here to confront you about anything. I wanted to say… that is… I know that I've upset you, and, I didn't mean to, really."

He nodded slightly, waiting for her to continue without a word. She cleared her throat, unnerved by his calm, but somewhat offended by his determination to remain mute. "So you're not even going to talk to me?"

Connor leant back against the wall and shrugged, pulling out a cigarette at the same time. "Depends on what ye have ta say." He lit it and took a drag. Murphy rolled his eyes, but didn't intervene.

"What?" She crossed her arms, a scowl on her face. "Don't play with me."

He raised an eyebrow, flicking the ash from the end of his cigarette. "I'm listenin'."

She shook her head. "You don't care what I have to say! You've made your mind up about all of this already. I really was trying to help you, even if you don't believe me."

"An' how d'ye know that I don't believe ye?" His response was just as cool and composed as the rest of his previous replies, and Laura resisted the urge to reach across and hit him.

"You're being a fucking idiot here Connor! I mean, I know that you're all hung up on this great romance you had, but, c'mon, it wasn't even all that much to begin with!" He raised an eyebrow, jaw clenching slightly. Laura didn't notice, so focused on her tirade. She pressed on, "I would understand if it was with some person who was totally awesome for you, but, Arlene… she wasn't that good of a person to begin with."

"Don't fuckin' talk about Arlene." He spat, and one look at him caused Laura to back down, knowing she had crossed the line.

There was an awkward silence where Laura looked at her feet while Connor fumed. Taking in a deep breath, Laura said, "Okay, okay. Sorry. I won't talk about her." She paused as Connor turned to walk into the kitchen, but continued with her train of thought before she could register what she was saying. "But that doesn't change what she is."

"Laura!" He wheeled around, and she recoiled from the expression of rage on his face genuinely afraid of his vehemence. He took a deep breath, and calmed himself down to a degree. When he next spoke, every word was punctuated by his anger. "You don't get to fuckin' talk about it."

She simply nodded, eyes wide. Looking over his shoulder, her eyes locked with Murphy, only to find that he was just as surprised with Connor's behaviour as she was. "S-sorry. I didn't know it bothered you that much."

"It does." Connor's eyes narrowed. "Now, unless ye've got somethin' else ta say, I suggest ye get the fuck out."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

_Well. That could've gone better._ Laura stood in the hallway, looking at the door that had just slammed in her face. Cursing Connor, she stalked down the hall, nearly running down the stairs to the street. _And Murphy! Look at what a use he had been!_ She shook her head. There she had been, arguing with Connor, trying to get him to see reason, all the while Murphy looked helplessly between them, not wanting to side with either of them. But she knew that when it came to it, Murphy had to choose his brother over his friend – and blood was thicker than water. They were twins.

_Still doesn't change the fact that out of the two of us, I'm the one who's actually making sense right now… Though I suppose I shouldn't be quite so hard on him. I did just kinda beat up his ex girlfriend. Emphasis on ex._ Laura sighed, wrenching the lock off of her bicycle and shoving it into her bag. _What a week. At least it's Monday tomorrow…_ Hopping on her bike, she left their neighbourhood behind her.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

So, she immersed herself in her work, barely pausing from her frantic pace to keep up with what her other friends were doing. She had never been a workaholic in the past, but it felt so natural for her push herself through her work, doing more in a few weeks than she had in months previous, leaving her boss confused and somewhat frightened. Occasionally, she'd get phone calls from her friends, sometimes Sue, sometimes Allie, asking her to come out to a club to party, or to come see a movie, or even to get drinks. Every time she'd politely decline, claiming headache, or flu, or family event just to avoid them. And she didn't even know why.

Sue was easy enough to deal with when she called. Laura had met her through her first friend she had met in Boston, Allie, at a club shortly after meeting the twins. She was a nice enough girl, but a bit on the ditsy side, and painfully naïve. Sue would call, nearly like clockwork, distraught, crying over some man who had been her life who had broken up with her. Laura would listen to her friend's grievances, making considerate noise at her plight in places, offering to hurt the offending male in others. She knew that if Sue had really wanted advice, she would have turned to Allie, because of the three of them, Allie was the most patient, and the best at giving advice. Laura knew that Sue knew that too. At the end of every conversation, Sue would claim to feel much better, and that she never really needed 'that fucker' anyway, then ask Laura to come and spend time with her. As always, she'd decline, saying that she had work, and that they'd have to catch up next time. Sue didn't seem to notice how far next time was being pushed off to, and Laura didn't feel inclined to tell her.

Allie was a bit harder for Laura. Posh and refined, Allie came from one of the upper class families that had settled in Boston after moving from England, renouncing the Crown during the War for Independence. A product of her environment, she was a good person to be seen with, and as her mother had been plucked out from a poor family by Allie's father, Allie had inherited an almost unheard of amount of compassion and understanding. Laura loved the girl to death, she was her best friend in Boston, but she was more persistent than a starved dog after a bone. She'd call, claiming not to want anything at first, then would beg Laura to come with her to some place because she had been "invited last minute" and "couldn't possibly go alone, that's just not done!" Laura would roll her eyes, suggesting Sue, pointing out that she had work in the morning, saying that she had a headache, or something else she had to attend to. Each and every passing conversation, the excuses were becoming more and more wild, and Allie was growing more and more sceptical. One day Allie had called, in a panic, Laura had tried out an extremely far fetched excuse as a last defence, and she could practically feel Allie's look through the phone.

"This is about those Irish twins, isn't it?"

"What?" Laura fought to keep the tremor from her voice as she spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh fuck off Laura!" Came the scathing reply. "Look, if you want to spend time with them instead of us, you should just fucking tell us! Don't lie to us! We're your friends. That should mean something to you!" Before Laura could reply, she heard the slam of the phone on the other end of the line, and was left with a dial tone, feeling like a lead weight had been dropped into her stomach.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Every now and again she'd check in with Murphy, calling about once a week, almost as predictable as clockwork, just to see how things were going. She never asked to talk to Connor, feeling butterflies jumping in her stomach whenever Murphy mentioned his name. Instead, she'd only ask how he was doing, if he was eating, how things were going in general.

The two of them often just talked about nothing important, and for those brief phone calls, Laura laughed more than she did for the rest of the week. She never asked, but they both knew that these calls were also to see if Arlene had shown up again. The blonde seemed to have disappeared out of Boston, which Laura was thankful for, terrified of the answer every time that Murphy paused before responding.

He kept asking for her to come around, come spend some time with them at the apartment, or even come out with them, but she would always decline. She knew, they both knew, that Connor was still angry with her, so she never gave into her desire to visit, going so far as to stay out of McGinty's in order to avoid the twins. She wouldn't admit how frequently she was calling them, no more than she would admit to missing being around either of them. She hadn't needed them before coming to Boston, so there was no reason to be so hung up on either of them, especially not if Connor was going to be a stupid ass. She also wasn't going to admit that those calls were sometimes the only thing that kept her going through the week, or that she would wonder what they were doing while she was forcing herself through the motions of her job to distract her mind from what she would find herself thinking about – which wasn't really working. No, at the end of the day, it didn't matter what they were doing, because it wasn't anything that concerned her. Even if she all she really wanted was to be a part of their lives again.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Murphy hated the situation he found himself in. He could stick with Connor, his twin, his brother, even though he was being a complete idiot. Or he could side with Laura, his friend, who had a rational answer for the whole situation, who may or may not be in love with his brother. Picking up his beer, he sighed, eyes sliding over to Connor who was slouched in front of the tv. Laura was right about one thing – that girl had been bad news from the beginning.

Speaking of Laura, "Hey, Conn?"

He got a muffled grunt in reply.

"Did anyone call the cell today?"

"Nah. It was quiet." Connor turned his bloodshot eyes to look at Murphy. "Why?"

"Oh, it's jus' that, well, Laura-"

"I don't wanna hear about fuckin' Laura." Connor resolutely turned away, again distracting himself with the television.

Murphy sighed. "Conn, she's our friend. An' it's been a week. She usually calls ta at least check up on you-"

"She's been checkin' up on me?" Murphy couldn't tell if Connor was angry or surprised.

"Aye… ever since Arlene left."

Connor turned away. "She didn't fuckin' need ta."

"But she wanted ta. Because she's yer friend as much as mine." Murphy stressed.

"I don't wanna hear about fuckin' Laura." That ended the conversation.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Laura had noticed that not long after her visit to Connor she had felt an eerie feeling on her way home, a prickling on her neck that made her shiver even though it was a very warm July. She had brushed it off as nerves, and kept moving. It had disappeared once she had gone home, but every time since then when she had stepped out of her apartment, she had gotten that same creepy feeling. After about a week, she had gotten used to it, and completely ignored the feeling, figuring she was just worried about Connor. But, every now and then, out of the corners of her eyes, she could swear that there were men dressed in black, only to be gone when she turned to look. She could almost hear a second set of footsteps following her in the alleyway when she walked alone through the shortcuts she had learned off by heart, she could almost catch whispered words coming from behind her, echoing against the buildings around her.

After a little while (at Murphy's insistence) Laura walked the familiar stairs up to their apartment, knocking against the familiar door. The smile that Murphy had given her had been worth the anxiety of showing up.

"Hi… Mind if I come in?" She smiled faintly.

"O'course ye can come in!" His response was boisterous, and Laura had the feeling that Connor had been getting worse.

"What the fuck is she doin' here?"

_Speak of the devil…_ Laura cringed at the tone of the voice; cold, bitter, and perhaps even confused. "H-hello Connor."

"She came because I wanted her ta. What's yer problem Connor?" The twins glared at each other, and Connor backed down first, leaving the room instead of replying.

Murphy turned to look at the shaking Laura. "Don't mind him… he's just in a mood."

"I – I think I should go…" She blinked furiously to keep tears from her eyes.

"What? Ye just fuckin' got here!" Murphy protested.

"I just remembered that I had something to do… really important." She threw a fake smile over to him, and quickly left the apartment.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

A few days later, Murphy had again coaxed her to come visit the apartment, so, she dutifully walked up the stairs and stood in front of the door, hesitating before knocking. _I could always call from a pay phone, claim that something came up…_ But as the door opened, she knew it was too late to back out, so she might as well dive in. Smiling cheerfully, she prepared to greet Murphy… only to find that it was Connor at the door.

"Uh, er, hi Connor…" She trailed off awkwardly, not sure what to say.

Instead of the hostile reply she was expecting, Connor gave her a small smile, gone almost as soon as it appeared. "Hullo Laura." His greeting was terse, but sounded somewhat upset.

"Connor…" She was frantically searching her mind for something to say, but Connor cut her off.

"I'm sorry fer being such a prick Laura."

She stood dumbfounded. "Pardon?"

He rolled his eyes, grumbling. "Yer not gonna get the apology twice."

"O-okay. I just didn't think I heard right." Laura moved from the door, wanting to get out of the situation, and feeling somewhat insulted. "Jesus, even when you're apologizing you've got your head in your ass." She left without another word.

Behind the door, Murphy sighed, punching his brother's arm.

Connor hit him back. "Oh, fuck off Murphy. At least I tried; she's the one being a bitch."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

About a week later found Laura sitting between the McManus twins at McGuinty's, having formed an uneasy truce with Connor for the time-being. So long as neither of them spoke of Arlene, they could talk. However, the minute the topic of the blonde girl was brought up, Connor would leave, a dark expression on his face.

At this very moment, Arlene was the furthest she had ever been from Laura's mind. Ever since she started visiting the twins again, the feeling that she was being followed had intensified, making it hard for her to sleep, and she became rather jumpy as a result.

Connor slid into the seat beside her, making Laura flinch, and he looked at her strangely. "Didn't think that we were doin' that bad…"

"N-no, I'm just, uh, cold." She invented quickly.

"Why didn't ye say so? Here, let me help…" He rubbed his hands against her upper arms, making warmth spread through her body. She could feel a flush on her cheeks, and she ducked her head.

"Thanks." She whispered to the ground, and Connor muttered an equally soft 'welcome', taking a drink of his beer.

That evening, she walked halfway home with the twins, pausing the say goodbye to them when she reached their block.

"Are ye sure ye don't want us ta come with ye Laura? Wouldn't be a trouble." Murphy offered, and Connor nodded in agreement, adding his opinion to Murphy's, "It's a bit dark, we wouldn't hold it against ye if ye wanted the company."

She laughed. "No, no, it's fine. I'll call you guys tomorrow, we need to figure out that movie thing you were telling me about."

Connor laughed. "Ye seriously want ta see it?" He shook his head, smiling. "Alright then… See ye later."

"Bye!" She called behind her as she walked away down the street, disappearing into a darkened alley out from the bright street lights.

"D'ye think she'll be alright?" Connor asked to Murphy.

"She'll be fine. She's walked home at night loads of times before." Murphy started to walk up the stairs while Connor looked at the spot where Laura used to be.

"Still… I have a feeling that something's not right…" He muttered to himself, before turning to follow his twin up to their apartment. Perhaps if he had been looking for just a moment longer, he would have been able to see the dark figures following the path Laura took into the alley.

Usually, Laura liked the quiet solitude that walking home provided her. Right now, she was wondering why the hell she didn't agree to have the twins walk her home. She shivered against the cool July air, listening with all her power for any noises near her. Not hearing anything suspicious, she began to relax, until she realized that there was a slight echo to her footsteps. She stopped dead, and a few moments later, so did the foot steps. She gulped, and started to walk faster, wishing that she had taken her bike with her. Ahead of her, she could make out a dark figure at the mouth of the alley, and her eyes widened in fear. However, the figure soon disappeared, and she quickly rushed out, not seeing the shadowy form against the wall.

Even under the street lights walking on the sidewalk, Laura couldn't shake the uneasy feeling, worse tonight than it had been any night before. Hearing a sound behind her, she turned, and saw a man in dark clothing walking behind her, then turn off onto a side street. Heart pounding in her chest, she forced herself to swallow around the lump in her throat. She turned back around and kept walking, legs shaking, breathing quickly. Laura looked down the road, checking if there were any more men dressed in black lurking about, but couldn't see a single person, something that didn't afford her any comfort.

The footsteps behind her grew louder, faster, and she let out a startled exclamation, moving her legs as fast as she could before running. Every now and then she'd risk a look over her shoulder, but wasn't able to see anything concrete in the few seconds she'd glance away from her path. Laura felt her eyes burning, and tried vainly to control her breathing. She felt a fiery pain in her left side, and she grimaced, her legs starting to feel like rubber. Angrily, she forced herself to keep moving, recognizing the street signs, knowing that she was only a few blocks away from her apartment.

Finally, she caught sight of her apartment building, and abandoning any sense of pride or dignity, Laura ran to the door of the building, and raced up the stairs; nerveless, trembling fingers pulling out her keys, and she didn't stop to breathe until her door was firmly shut and locked behind her. Only then did she slump to the ground, hysterical tears falling down her face as the adrenaline pumped through her veins like acid. Somehow, she made it to her bed, and collapsed, curling into a tiny ball, wishing in vain that someone was here to comfort her.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

In the light of morning, Laura felt much better. Her grey cat, Raja, had joined her in the night and had curled up on her chest. With a smile, she pushed him off, and got up, fixing herself a breakfast of toast with butter and jam. The light on her answering machine was lit up, so she pressed the button, holding onto her slice of toast with her mouth.

"You have… one, unheard voice message. First message: 'If you value your life, remove yourself from the life of McManus twins. You have been warned.' Sent…" The rest of the machine's programming past by her in a blur. The gravelly voice on the recording was unemotional, uncaring, unfeeling. She felt a shudder go through her as the recalled the unrecognizable man's words. _A death threat? What the fuck is going on? _She dropped her half eaten toast on the counter, no longer feeling hungry. Raja mewled impatiently on the floor for his breakfast, but Laura walked past the animal, face blank and impassive.

Sitting down on a chair near the counter, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. Almost hyperventilating, she looked as it sounded again, not sure if she dared to pick it up. Her trembling hand reached out and grabbed the phone, bringing it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Laura! We were wonderin' what had happened ta ye, it's already past noon." Murphy's cheery voice greeted her, and she sighed in relief.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She smiled at the sound of the familiar voice. "I was really tired, only got up about an hour ago." Laura felt the tension leave her when he chuckled, temporarily forgetting her chilling discovery.

"Alright. Are ye comin' over ta see the film?" She could make out sounds in the background. "What was tha' Conn?" Laura giggled as she could make out his voice, shouting at his brother. "No! Rambo!" She laughed even harder as she realized that they were arguing over what movie to watch.

"Look, look, Murphy, why don't we argue over this once I get there, alright? Do you want me to grab some popcorn or something?"

"Huh?" Came the bewildered question as Murphy was forced to focus on the phone conversation again.

She laughed. "Well, you've got the beer; I figure that I should get the popcorn. It's only fair."

He shrugged, and she could hear that he had put a cigarette in his mouth. "Alright, I'd think that pizza's more ta the point, but, whatever. Do what ye want."

Laura grinned. "Sure. I'll be there soon."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

That night, as she was leaving the twins apartment, Laura felt completely at ease. But as she walked alone through the side streets and alleyways that she had made her path, an increasing sense of dread crept over her. The footsteps sounded loudly in her ears, and her heart began hammering in her chest as she could hear whispered conversation from behind her. And she could swear that they were getting closer.

Certain words were louder than others, she strained to make out what was being said, so morbidly curious she was with what was chasing her. She even slowed slightly, completely unaware of what she was doing in her fascination. Up until the voices stopped, and the footsteps stopped entirely. The silence around her was eerie, and she looked side to side, suddenly aware that she had accidentally turned down a no exit alley.

Gulping, she turned around, only to find that her way was clear, and that there wasn't a soul in sight. Not sure of what to do, she eased herself to the exit of the alley, stepping around piles of garbage and back into the light from the street. Still, there was no one in sight. Confused, Laura left the alley, and continued on her way to her apartment. Shortly after that, the footsteps started again and she shivered, now perfectly aware of how closely they watched her, and how well they knew her route.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Laura jolted awake in the middle of the night. Again came the banging on her door. She pulled her blankets closer to her, not sure if she should get up and see who it was, or just stay put. Looking over at the clock, she could see it was three in the morning, and she groaned to herself. She had finally been getting some sleep when this started. She heard the banging come again, so she pulled herself out of bed, moving slowly to the door of her apartment. By the time she reached the door, the banging had stopped, but she looked out into the hall through her peephole anyway. A barren corridor was all she could see, lit only by the street lights that glared through the window at the far end of the hall. She looked side to side, but could see nothing, no one.

Unnerved, she moved back to her bed, holding her arms around herself. Raja hopped up on the bed, and butted her arm for attention. As in habit, she pet the fluffy cat, mind reeling. This was now the third night in a row that this had happened. It had been over a week since the phone call, and nearly three weeks since her fight with Connor. Thinking back to the phone call – still saved on her answering machine – Laura wondered if perhaps it would be in her best interests to stay away from the twins. She dismissed that idea as quickly as it came to her head. No, no shadowy people could make her fear going to see her friends. _Though, maybe I should tell Connor, or Murphy…_ She shook her head. No need to bother them. She could handle this on her own.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

In the morning, on a whim after fixing Raja's breakfast, Laura looked out of her kitchen window down into the alley below. She choked back a yell when she saw a man dressed in a black suit watching her windows from below. Hand over her mouth, she felt the stirrings of panic threatening to overtake her. Moving back from the window, she collapsed onto one of chairs at her table, disbelief on her features. _No, no this isn't right. This isn't happening._ She shook her head.

The phone rang.

Laura jumped nearly a foot in the air, swivelling to stare at the black machine. It rang again, continuing as if nothing was amiss. She swallowed, wondering when exactly it was that she became afraid to answer her own telephone. Tentatively, she reached out, and picked up, bringing the cradle to her ear as if it would burn her.

"You were warned." Spoke the gravelly voice, and then it disconnected, leaving Laura with a shrill beeping in her ear.

With growing trepidation, Laura continued through her daily routine, aware at every turn of the men dressed in black suits that haunted her every step. Sitting at the counter at the bookstore, she could see one with sunglasses lurking beside a light post, and another wearing a black fedora at the edge of an alley. She felt a shiver go through her while she rung up a customer, distracted and distant in biding the man a good day.

Heading home, she heard the familiar footsteps behind her, and moved faster to avoid any contact with the men who followed her. She heard a chuckle, and cursed to herself as the footsteps sped up with her, keeping her pace perfectly, but never being visible. Somehow that was worse.

When she saw her apartment building, Laura could have wept with relief. Dashing inside, she raced up the stairs to her floor, quickly turning the corner and heading down the hallway.

But something was amiss. The door to her apartment was sitting slightly ajar. She froze in the hallway. _I - I know I locked it this morning._ Heart hammering in her chest, she gently pushed open the door to her apartment, eyes drinking in the impossible scene before her. Lit only by the dim lights from the hall, her apartment looked a shambles; things thrown from shelves across the room, her lamp thrown on the floor, the coffee table broken in two, curtains ripped off the walls and in general, the living room in chaos. Her jaw dropped. She could hear a faint buzzing, an unusual noise that she couldn't place the source of. Hand reaching out to flick on the light switch, she drew back as if burnt when her fingers touched something sticky and wet on the wall. Lifting her fingers to her nose, she hesitantly smelled, and was relieved to find it was only paint.

With a finger, she flicked on the light, and was horrified to find that the destruction didn't end with the chaos of her possessions on the floor. Over every wall, scrawled in many colours of paint, were insults, taunts, warnings, and other disgusting epitaphs. Arrows smeared across the walls pointed to the kitchen, and Laura was hesitant to follow them. The buzzing noise grew in volume every step she took closer to the kitchen. But she had no choice but to go into the room, her curiosity demanded it; what she saw in there was something that she wished that she never had to see. The minute she looked into the room, she recoiled in a mixture of disgust, sorrow and pain, hand cupped over her mouth as she retched, running to the bathroom.

Laura tried to compose herself, but every time she closed her eyes, she could see the image etched behind her eyes; the brilliant red on the floor, the grey matted fur, she could even smell the decay and rot. With a shudder, she drew herself up. She couldn't leave him like that. She had to deal with this mess. Then she'd deal with those men.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

She didn't get much sleep that night, and Laura was relieved when the dawn broke across the city. Sunday morning had never been more welcome. Her eyes felt heavy and tight, like she hadn't slept in weeks, and her throat was sore from crying. The cleanup had taken most of the night. The paint still spelt out lewd and frightening promises, but the general chaos had been contained into one section of the living room. Sitting down on one of her chairs, Laura looked over her apartment, feeling completely spent.

_What's worse is that I'm supposed to be with the twins tonight…_ She closed her eyes, body drooping in exhaustion. _I could just tell them that I can't make it… but…_ Her thoughts drifted over to Connor. _No, I can't. I said I'd come already, I can't just back out._ She sighed, looking at the clock. _I should make some breakfast…_

Later that night, Laura stood at the crux of a decision. Her favourite Irishmen were drunk, singing and laughing as they walked to their apartment, which was unusual enough in itself. But even stranger, they offered to have her stay overnight at their apartment. And she almost said yes.

She agreed to come in to talk with them for a while, laughing in the cheerful atmosphere while they told her ridiculous and outrageous stories that she couldn't believe, but didn't think that anyone would be able to just make up. And then she brought up Arlene.

"I don't want ta talk about fuckin' Arlene." Connor ground out, suddenly seeming very sober.

"Please, Connor, just talk to me! I want to understand-"

"Nah, ye want ta judge." He interrupted Laura. Murphy had backed off to the kitchen on the pretext of getting himself another drink.

"But this doesn't even make any sense!" Laura protested. "Can you honestly say that she was that good for you?"

"Aye, I can."

Laura gave him a look. "And can you explain why?"

That stopped him. Laura went on. "I didn't expect so. I can't figure out why you liked her like you did, especially given what she was, and what she was doing. I tried Connor, I fucking tried to like this girl, but she's impossible for me to even want to deal with, and I'm pretty sure that Murph felt exactly the same way. The sooner you figure out why you loved her, why you were so attached to her, the better off you will be."

Connor shook his head, tone soft. "There's no figurin' needed Laura."

"Please Connor, just promise me that you'll think about it?" She begged him.

There was a long pause. "Alright. I'll think about it."

She smiled, and gave him a hug. "Thank you."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The next morning, Laura found her bike in pieces in the stairwell where she usually kept it. She looked down at the mangled metal at her feet, and she felt like crying. There would be no way to fix this – it looked like someone had cut it up with giant scissors, then took a blowtorch to the remains. The rubber wheels had melted into the ground, and the rest was too disfigured to see what part went where. _What the fuck? Why is this happening to me?_

She rubbed her eyes in frustration and exhaustion. She had been tempted to call in, claim she was sick, take a day off. But the bills had arrived, including the one for rent, and Laura knew that having a day off really wasn't an option. So, sans bike, she went her way to work, knowing that she'd be more than a little bit late. Hopefully she didn't fall asleep behind the counter today.

After work, Laura made her way to McGuinty's, meeting up with the McManus twins outside of the bar. Connor reached the door first, and held it open for her while Murphy gestured that she should go inside. With a faint smile she obliged, shaking her head at the two of them. "I suppose chivalry isn't quite dead then?" She laughed as she grabbed a booth.

Murphy smiled and shook his head, going to get drinks. Connor said across from Laura, a serious expression on his face, making Laura's good mood disappear. "Are you alright Conn?" He seemed to be struggling with what to say.

"Look, Laura. I am really sorry 'bout all o'this shite that's been goin' on lately. I shouldn't've been so hard on ye, ye were only lookin' out fer me. Ye were right. She… she wasn't all tha' good of a person."

Laura was left speechless. Luckily for her, Murphy at that moment reappeared with three pints of beer. Quickly, the conversation moved away from Arlene, but every now and then Laura would look back over at Connor, still trying to process what had been said.

At around midnight, Laura pled exhaustion, and left the twins at the bar, nearly running home in her haste to avoid the footsteps and whispers that haunted her. Only when she was inside her apartment did she allow for herself to slow down, acutely aware for the first time how alone she really was. Making her way to the bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed, not evening taking off her clothing before falling asleep.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Over the next week, Laura avoided the twins, partially because was trying to figure Connor out, and partially because Connor had sunk into another mood, which neither Laura nor Murphy could figure out. Shaking her head, she went about her business, trying her best to put her life back together at home, working longer and longer hours instead of going out with the twins to the pub.

The men hadn't stopped pursuing her. Every night the banging on the door would come, nearly at the same time, making her jolt awake. The lack of sleep was beginning to get to her. One day she had returned home to find that all of her efforts to clean the place had gone to waste – someone had broken in again, leaving chaos in their wake. She had no idea what to do, or how to cope.

Murphy called on Friday, making Laura smile. After some persuading, she agreed to go out with them, but said that she wouldn't be able to stay long. So, at two in the morning, far later than she had intended on being out, Laura stood on the street below the twin's apartment.

"I just really want to go home guys. I'll call you tomorrow, I swear, I just have some things I need to do there."

"Can't ye do them in the mornin' Laura?" Murphy wheedled.

She shook her head. "No, I've got to go."

"Laura-"

Connor interjected. "No Murph, if she wants ta go, let her go."

Laura looked over at him. His face was stony, and she sighed. "Look, I said I didn't mean it-"

"I don't want ta hear it Laura." He softened his tone slightly when she flinched. "What's been said has been said. We'll talk ta ye tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright." She turned to leave.

"But I want that fuckin' phone call!" He called after her, making her smile.

"You'll get your phone call, don't worry." With one last look over her shoulder, she was gone.

Laura moved her way through the familiar streets, but the closer she came to her apartment, the more aware she became that something was terribly wrong. Only a few scant blocks away from safety, her fears were confirmed as the shadows converged on her in the alley, whispers no longer inaudible, footsteps now having figuring to which they belonged. She forced herself to hide her fear, and smiled mockingly at them.

"Hello boys. What can I do for you?"


	4. IV: Broken Promises

_"But where were you when I was scared  
A broken promise left me here  
A post-it note is what I've got  
It says: 'I'm sorry', but I know you're not"_

**~Here I Am - Marion Raven~**

Murphy watched as the sun slowly sank into the horizon, dying rays of light caressing the city buildings one last time before they disappeared. They had spent all day waiting for a phone call, and it didn't look like that call would be coming any time soon.

"Connor, this is ridiculous." Murphy watched as his brother sitting despondently in front of the television.

Murphy only received a grunt in response.

He sighed. "Connor, ye can't keep doin' this. Ye can't just block out the world cuz it changes."

"What the fuck are ye talkin' about Murphy?" Connor's hand rested on the remote, flicking the channel aggressively with his response.

"Ye knew that she was no good fer ye."

The channel changed from news to a concert, the reply hostile. "Fuck off Murphy."

"An' ye knew that she was right."

"Shut up Murphy." Connor slammed his finger against the remote, and the channel changed again, now a cooking show. They both knew that the first girl mentioned was different from the second girl.

"Ye know that she's goin' ta win in the end."

"Shut the fuck up Murphy!" Now the screen showed a black and white movie.

"So why are ye doin' this? What the fuck is going through yer mind Connor?"

"I don't even fucking know!" He shouted, glaring at his twin. They stood there, like a tableau, neither speaking for a long while. Connor took in a few deep breaths, and Murphy waited for him to calm down. "I don't know." Connor said again, shaking his head, switching the television off and dropping the remote onto the table.

"Ye can't still be hung up Arlene, are ye?" The question was more sympathetic than anything else, and Connor didn't reply for a moment, sitting back down on the couch.

"I dunno. Arlene… meant a lot ta me."

"Ye know that Laura's right about her though."

"I don't want ta talk about fuckin' Laura." That was instantaneous, leaving Murphy confused.

"I thought ye two made nice Conn. What the fuck is going on?"

"We did…" He looked over at his twin, seeming somewhat confused as well. "We did, but that doesn't mean I like her very much right now."

Murphy growled in his frustration. "How the fuck does that work?"

Before Connor could reply, the phone rang.

"Who the fuck would tha' be?" Connor looked over, and Murphy moved to pick it up, but the call disconnected half-way through a ring.

"Weird…" Murphy could feel a sinking feeling in his stomach. He left the cell phone on the counter, wishing that he knew what was making him feel so anxious. He walked back into the living room, but turned back around before he had gotten more than a few steps into the room. Acting on a hunch, he picked up the phone, and dialled Laura's number.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up…" The phone kept ringing. "Pick up yer fuckin' phone Laura!" He grasped onto the counter, knuckles turning white. With a click, the answering machine picked up, and Murphy forcefully hung up.

"Is she not answerin'?" Connor asked from the doorway.

"No. An' I have this feelin'-"

"I know. Me too."

Murphy paced the kitchen. "We should go find her."

"We should wait fer her." Connor replied. Murphy looked at him incredulously. "Look, ye know how she is. She doesn't want anyone interferin' in her life. If she needs us, she'll come ta us. It's jus' one missed phone call Murph, how bad can it be? I've already fucked things up enough with her, I don't want ta be makin' it worse."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Dutifully, Murphy waited for Laura to call before he would call her again, all the while becoming more and more anxious, snapping at Connor, pacing the apartment, slamming doors and generally being difficult to live with. Connor took this in stride, knowing what Murphy was going through.

"She'll call." He spoke up after Murphy nearly broke one of the cabinet doors.

"How the fuck do ye know that?!" Murphy spat from the kitchen.

"It's Laura. She'll call." Connor replied calmly, changing the channel on the television.

"Nah, somethin's not right here Conn." Murphy shook his head, anger leaving him. "It's been three days. She should've called by now."

Connor paused from what he was doing. "Would it make ye happier if we went ta her apartment?"

"Aye." Grabbing the cell phone and keys, Murphy quickly walked to the door. With a sigh, Connor shut off the tv and joined his twin at the door.

"I'm tellin' ye that this is a waste o'time." He opened the door. "She's perfectly fine."

"Are ye tellin' me that yer not fuckin' worried about her?" Murphy asked incredulously.

They walked out onto the street. "'S not tha' I'm not worried, it's jus' tha' I think tha' Laura can handle herself. She doesn't like us interfering."

"It's not interfering if she actually needs the help." Murphy muttered.

Connor shrugged. "Look, if she asks, this was yer idea. I don't want her ta be more pissed with me."

Murphy shoved him. "Yer afraid of Laura?"

"No, I just-"

"Yer afraid of Laura!" He laughed.

"Fuck off Murphy." Connor grumbled, and Murphy kept laughing.

About a half hour later, the twins stood at the base of Laura's apartment complex. Without a word, they climbed the stairs to the third floor, leaving the stairwell and knocking loudly on the wooden door that had three brass numbers – 324. After a few moments of waiting, the door opened a crack, revealing Laura's face.

"Laura, sorry ta be droppin' in like this-" Murphy spoke, and was quickly interrupted.

"You two can't be here right now." She whispered, looking up and down the hall anxiously. The twins could see the door chain was in place, and they exchanged a look.

"An' what d'ye mean by that Laura?" Connor asked.

She faltered. "Er, well, I've… I'm redecorating, and there's a lot of mess. Can't really let people in here. I, uh, forgot to call, right?"

Murphy nodded while Connor raised an eyebrow. She wouldn't look them in the face. After looking around furtively for a few moments, Laura came to a decision.

"Give me a second, I'll talk to you in the hall."

The door closed, and after a bit of scuffling on the other side, it reopened, Laura came out and quickly closed it behind her. The twins could briefly see chaos in the room behind her, but they weren't able to get a clear view.

Laura moved hair behind her ear, looking up at them nervously. She cleared her throat. "Uh, so, yeah, I was really busy that night, Sue called me, and I couldn't get time to call you."

Connor didn't speak, he simply affixed Laura with a look while she squirmed. Murphy raised an eyebrow at her excuse as well. Finally, Connor spoke.

"Well, if yer redecoratin', mind if we come in ta take a look?"

"No! Uh, no, no, you can't. It's not done yet. Can't see it till it's done, ha ha." Laura grabbed the door handle behind her back.

"Alright, alright. Jus' askin'. No need ta get so defensive about it." Connor replied evenly.

"Uh, but, yeah, I've got to get back to this, so, uh, I'll… call you guys later?" She pressed herself back into the door, avoiding eye contact.

"Fair enough." Murphy said, not sounding very convinced. Just as Laura turned to open the door, Connor spoke. "Laura… if anythin's botherin' ye, ye know ye can come ta us right?"

"Y-yeah."

He nodded. "Alright, jus' wanted ta make sure ye know. S'no trouble, jus' call us up, an' we'll come."

"O-okay. Bye." She hastily slipped into her apartment, closing the door behind her. In the silence, Murphy spoke first.

"Do ye believe her?"

"No. D'ye?"

"Not a bit."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

About a week after they went to visit her, the twins received a call from Laura. After a little bit of coaxing, they were able to get her to come out with them to McGuinty's.

Connor watched over her while she was there. At first, she seemed terrified, like a feral animal, unsure whether to stay or go. As Murphy joked with her, and they both told her stories of their past pranks, she began to loosen up, no longer hunched over her drink. Soon she was laughing with them, telling her own stories and jokes, the same as she had always been.

At around two in the morning, last call was heard, and everyone left in the bar groaned, slowly making their way to the door to make their way into the night. The closer the three of them came to the twin's apartment, the more nervous Laura appeared.

"D'ye want ta stay over Laura?" Murphy asked. He too was not oblivious to Laura's unease.

"N-no, I'll be fine." She gave him a weak smile. "It's not that far, and I've got more cleaning to do."

"Yer gonna do cleaning at half two in the bloody mornin'? That ain't healthy. We've got a spare room Laura, it wouldn't be a problem." Connor anticipated her argument before she even got a chance to use it.

She shook her head. "I don't want to impose. Look, I'll call you tomorrow, I promise."

Neither looked too convinced. "Are ye actually goin' ta call this time?" Murphy asked.

"**Yes** Murphy, I will **actually** call you." She rolled her eyes. "You two are more overprotective than mother hens!"

Murphy chuckled slightly, but Connor stayed serious. "If anythin' happens, an' I mean anythin' at all, ye call us, y'understand?"

She nodded. "I'll call. I promise."

"Alright. Talk ta ye tomorrow." He nodded at her before she disappeared down the street. He looked over at Murphy. "I've got a-"

"Bad feelin'? Aye, me too." The two of them watched as Laura turned down the alleyway, neither able to express exactly what it was that worried them. After a few moments, they both went inside.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

In the middle of the night, their cell phone rang.

With a curse, the twins awoke, and looked at each other. The phone rang again.

"Hello?" It was Connor who picked up, switching on the light in the kitchen. Murphy stood in the doorway, blinking away sleep.

"Hey Connor." Her voice sounded hoarse, weary, and pained.

"Laura? What's wrong?" Connor gestured for his twin to move over as he pressed the speaker phone button.

"Aye, who d'we have ta beat Laura?" Murphy added.

"S'n-not important. Look, I, er, I need a place to crash for the night, and I hate to be asking-"

"Laura!" Murphy protested, but she kept going.

"-but I really don't have any other options." She paused, sighing heavily. "My… I, er, don't feel safe at my apartment right now. I'm coming over. I'll be there in … fifteen I think."

"We'll come and get you." Connor vowed, holding off a curse that was on the tip of his tongue.

She spoke instantly, stronger than anything she had said before. "No."

"Laura, it's the middle o' the fuckin' night girl! It's not safe-"

"Yeah, well neither's standing at a payphone in South Boston in the middle of the night, so fucking stay put and wait." She spat viciously. Continuing with a softer tone, she said, "I'll be there soon." Again, she hung up without waiting for their reply.

The twins looked at each other, shellshocked.

"Fuck!" Murphy was first to recover.

"What the fuck does that girl think she's doin'?!" Connor was at a loss for words.

"Calm down Conn." Murphy took the phone from his hand and switched it off. "She's got a fuckin' point – how're we gonna find her if she's not at her fuckin' apartment? She said she didn't feel safe. She obviously has a reason – takes a lot to spook Laura."

After a moment of terse silence, Connor relented. "Aye, that's true. So, what? We just… wait?" He leant in the doorway as his brother moved to the living room to sit in the recliner usually reserved for Da.

"Looks like it." Murphy leant backwards. "I hate fuckin' waiting."

"I know."

The minutes ticked by slowly for the twins. There was little to do but watch as the clock moved at an impossibly sluggish pace, neither having much to say. They waited for a sound, any sound, senses straining to their limits.

A car alarm went off on the street, causing them to jump.

"Fuck!" Connor stood up and started pacing the kitchen while Murphy chuckled lowly for a few moments. Then returned the anxious feeling of waiting, the doom settling further around them while their minds churned out all sorts of possibilities of what was happening right now.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. To twenty five. Thirty. Forty five minutes and Connor reached for his coat, but a sound in the hall stops him. Footsteps, sluggish but determined footsteps echoing from the stairs. A tentative knock on the door, made loud by the silence.

Connor opened it, and saw a diminutive figure standing in the darkness, covered in a giant grey sweatshirt, wearing ragged blue jeans, with a ruddy stain on them.

"Laura?" Murphy asked the figure, not sure of who it is.

"M-may… I come in?" They're relieved to hear her muffled voice coming out from under the hood. She didn't look up.

"Of course ye can." Connor held open the door for her as she stumbles inside, clearly exhausted. Murphy led her to a chair while Connor took a look in the hallway to see if anyone is watching. Closing and locking the door, he moved to stand by Laura in the kitchen.

"What fuckin' happened ta ye?" Murphy asked her, but she still wouldn't look at them.

"N-nothing. S'my issue anyway. I, er, I just can't stay there right now. I'll… I'll be gone in the morning, I promise, don't want to impose."

"Impose? What the fuck are ye on about?" Connor touched her shoulder, and she flinched away as if burnt.

"I, er, just… don't want you two to feel obligated or nothing." She mumbled into the ground. Connor exchanged a glance with Murphy over her head.

"Alright Laura. First thing's first. Take off yer hood." Murphy tried to persuade her, but it did no good.

"N-no. You'll… you'll be upset."

"C'mon Laura, ye know us. We're yer friends. Just… take off yer hood. There's no need ta hide from us." He knelt down beside her, but she resolutely turned away.

"No. I… I just want to go to bed. I'll be gone by morning."

"Laura, there'll be none o' that, ye hear? Yer not imposin', we fuckin' asked ye ta stay only a few hours back, all we're worried about is yer safety." Connor stepped in forcefully, glaring down at her. She moved as far away from him as she could manage in the chair, and he sighed. "Listen, Laura, ye remember what I said ta ye when we first met?"

"Uh huh." She nodded gently.

"Well then?" He coaxed, earning a small smile. "We're not gonna hurt ye. Take off yer hood love. Please?"

Tentatively, she removed the hood, revealing the damage done to her face. Her lip was split, her left eye was nearly completely swollen shut, she had cuts on her forehead and neck, and dried blood was everywhere, including in her hair. The twins took in a sharp breath, and Murphy turned away in rage, punching the wall by the refrigerator.

"Fuck Laura! Who did this ta ye?" Connor was the quickest to regain his composure.

"N-no one." She muttered, biting at her finger.

Connor tenderly took her finger away from her mouth. "Ye did it ta yerself?" His question was incredulous.

"No, but, it's… it's my fight." She insisted stubbornly.

"The fuck it is!" Murphy moved back into her view.

"It is!" She looked up at him, almost glaring. "They were the ones who did this to me, so I'll make them pay! You can't just…"

"Can't what? Try to help ye?! Because yer long overdue on tryin' ta stop that one Laura." Murphy could barely contain his rage. "Fuckin' hell! When I find those bastards who did this ta ye-"

"No!" She jumped up, standing in front of him. "It's not your fight Murphy! You… you didn't know. Either of you." She turned away, holding her sweater to her protectively. Again, the twins exchanged a look.

"What d'ye mean, 'didn't know'? Didn't know what?" Murphy asked.

Laura sat down heavily on the chair. "I… It's just… Never mind." She looked down at the floor.

Connor knelt down in front of her and raised her chin. "Laura. What happened?"

"I – I don't want to talk about it." She shook her head.

"We can't help ye if ye don't tell us what happened Laura." His voice was relaxing, and Laura felt the tension and worry leaving her body.

"There… there were some men. They didn't want me to be around you. I don't know why, they never said."

Murphy looked like he was about to jump in, but Connor held up a hand, stalling him while he kept talking to Laura in the same tone. "Some men? What did they look like? How many?"

"I – I don't know. A lot. They always wore black all the time. They were following me, knew where I worked, where I lived, everything. Then… then things just kept getting worse and worse. I wanted to tell you guys, I really did… but I figured you … I wanted to deal with it myself."

"Ye didn't want ta seem weak?" Connor asked, and she nodded, looking at the floor ashamed. "Laura… yer not weak for admitting that ye need help!" He rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Laura, how long has this been going on for?"

"A – a while." She grudgingly admitted.

"Laura…" He gave her a stern look.

"Since after I argued with you about Ar-Arlene, right after you two broke up."

Connor was silent, and Murphy took this opportunity to speak. "Laura, it's been a month since then! This shite has been happening for a month, and ye didn't tell us?!"

She shrank back in the chair. Connor interjected. "Calm down Murphy, it's not her fault." Turning to Laura, he said, "Ye look exhausted. D'ye want ta talk about this later?"

"Y-yes please." She replied quietly.

"Alright." Connor stood up. "The guest room is free, ye know where it is right?"

Laura nodded. "Uh huh."

"Good. Go get yerself some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow." Laura stood and left the room.

The twins exchanged a look. "Fuck." Whispered Murphy when he was sure she was out of earshot.

"We're going to have to find out…" Connor sighed. "We can't just go back to bed now."

"I'm not gonna be able ta fuckin' sleep." Murphy bitterly agreed.

"Should tell her to use the shower."

"Aye." Murphy didn't move, so Connor walked after Laura.

He knocked on the door to the guest room, she was sitting in the middle of the floor. He cleared his throat, making her look up.

"Er, thought you might want a shower."

"Oh. Yeah, thanks." She smiled slightly, pulling at her sweater. She winced as she tried to move it over her head.

"Ye alright? Lemme help ye." He walked over and carefully took the material off, leaving her in a thin t-shirt. She shivered from the sudden change in temperature, and Connor could see bruises on her arms.

"Yer not going ta be leaving tomorrow either Laura." He said, predicting her next argument.

She looked up at him surprised, but didn't say anything.

"Yer hurt. Ye can stay here until … until you feel better. Until you want ta leave. We'll not force ye out." When she slowly nodded, he felt a weight disappear from his mind. "Good. I'll get ye a towel for the bathroom."

"Thanks." She whispered.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Even after Laura had gone to bed, the MacManus twins were still awake, sitting in the kitchen.

"What the fuck do we do about this now?" Murphy asked.

"Ye didn't see the bruises on her body. Whoever did this ta her knew what they were doin." Connor admitted bitterly.

Murphy shook his head. "Who the fuck'd want ta do this ta Laura of all people?"

"If I was ta guess, I'd say Arlene. She hated Laura. But I don't know where she'd get so many men ta help her with somethin' like this."

"Aye, and hasn't yer ex been outta the picture for a while?"

Connor nodded. "Which is why this doesn't make any sense."

Murphy glanced at the clock. "We're gonna need Da's help with this one. And maybe even Smecker. But it's late and-" He was cut off by cries from the guest room.

"Laura." Connor had already left the room. Opening the door to the guest bedroom, he looked around, feeling relieved that the only person in there was Laura. "Laura, relax, please. It's okay." He gently rubbed his thumb across her forehead, feeling the cold sweat as she thrashed around in the bed. "Shush now Laura, calm."

Murphy stood at the door, watching the two of them.

Gradually, Laura calmed down, her eyes fluttering open. "C-Conn?"

"Aye?"

He was taken aback when she flung her arms around him. "Christ, I thought it was a dream." She sobbed into his chest. Murphy gave him a half-hearted smile as he left the room.

"S'alright now Laura. Yer safe. Saints'll protect ye, I promise." He whispered while he pet her hair, making her relax.

"Thank you Connor…" She yawned as he lay her back down on her bed.

"Go ta sleep. Ye need it." He smiled and didn't leave her side until he was sure she had fallen asleep. He carefully closed the door behind him, and walked back into the room he shared with Murphy. "We hafta fuckin' find these bastards, and make 'em pay."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The twins didn't get much more sleep that night. Between the guilt they felt over leaving Laura on her own, the worries about her health, and the anger that they felt towards the men who had done this to her, they both had far too much to think about to allow themselves the luxury of sleep. It wasn't surprisingly that when the sun rose in the morning, the two of them were sitting out in the kitchen, balefully looking down into their partially full coffee mugs.

After a long silence, Connor was the first to speak. "We need a fuckin' plan."

"Search her apartment." Murphy suggested, taking a mouthful of the cold coffee.

"She's not goin' ta like us meddling." His twin warned.

"Aye. But there's nothin' she can do about that now. She came ta us, and now we're committed."

"Need ta see if there's a connection between her and those bastards too." Connor pointed out, getting up to fill his mug.

"Aye." Murphy scratched his head. "Can't leave her alone though."

Connor shook his head. "Definitely not. Even if she thinks she's good enough ta be out on her own, and even if she thinks she wants ta, she doesn't."

"Aye."

They lapsed into silence again as the clock marked a staccato rhythm in the background. Connor spoke up softly. "We're gonna need ta see how badly they injured her."

"Fuck, yer right. Never would've thought o' that Conn." The look Murphy gave him clearly indicated that it should be Connor looking over Laura, and not him.

"Hold on a minute there Murph, why me?" Connor's voice held a panicked note in it.

Murphy shrugged. "She trusts ye more than me. After all, ye were the one who helped her the most when she first met us."

"Fuck ye Murphy! Ye can't always be usin' that as yer excuse!" Connor glared sourly at his twin's cheeky grin.

"I'll keep usin' it as long as it's true. Now, I'm off ta check her apartment." Murphy got up from the table.

"Not yet."

"Why not?" He stopped at the door.

Connor took a swig of coffee. "They might not be cleared out yet."

"All the more reason-"

"No Murph." Connor cut off his brother's angry retort. "They were sent by someone. We need ta find out who. It'll be easier if we know who we're lookin' for."

Murphy sat back down with a sigh. "So now what?"

"Now we wait." Connor grabbed his coffee mug and head out to the living room to watch tv. Murphy followed him.

"I hate fuckin' waiting!"

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Laura woke up in terror. Looking around the unfamiliar room, she thought for a minute that they had moved her from her apartment, taken her somewhere else. However, as her eyes adjusted, she quickly found that the unfamiliar room was actually the guest bedroom at the MacManus' apartment, and she relaxed, falling back into the bed. She savoured the feeling of the soft mattress and warm blankets around her, knowing that, for now at least, she was safe.

It was comfortable, and she was slowly being lulled back to sleep. She didn't hurt as much as she did yesterday, and she could see a bit better too. Everything was wonderful. Though she'd love to stay in bed all day, or at least for a little while longer, she had a feeling that the twins were up to something, and the sooner she found out about it, the better off everyone would be. Sitting up, she looked over at her sweater from the night before. That, and her t-shirt and jeans were all that she had to wear. Standing up, she tied her hair back, and went to the door, making a note that she'd have to find more clothes. After a moment's hesitation, she opened the door and walked out.

Connor sat out on the couch in the living room, flipping through the few channels that he and his brother managed to get with their antennae, never stopping, just flipping. His mind wandered over the conversation from last night – why **hadn't** either of them gone to check on her? Why **hadn't** they worried more? _Because it was Laura. And she always came around, hated people meddling, always wanted to do things herself. Because I was far too tied up with my self loathing, self pity, to even realize that someone else was in trouble, and Murph was too busy indulging me._

A creak heralded Laura's arrival, making Connor withdraw from his thoughts. He looked over to see her lurking in the shadows of the doorway, wearing the same clothes from last night. He could feel a strange emotion coming over him, but hastily ignored it. Connor swallowed, and then sent her a shaky smile, gesturing for her to come sit by him. She hesitantly moved into the room, wary eyes taking in every inch.

"Where's… where's Murph?" She sat down beside him, relaxing into the couch very slowly, either from pain or fear, Connor couldn't tell which.

"He's gone out." Connor replied vaguely.

"Without you?"

He shrugged. "Just because we're twins doesn't mean we do everythin' together Laura." He sent a critical eye over her. "Now, what actually happened ta ye? I'm gonna hafta see the extent of the damage"

Laura shook her head violently, her dark hair moving free of it's restraint. "I'm fine Connor. Just a few bruises, nothing serious. How many times do I hafta say it?"

"Until I believe it, which is pretty near never." He crossed his arms, an inflexible glower on his face. "Laura, ye came in here last night, fuckin' covered in blood, ye had cuts, bruises, and who the hell knows what the fuck all else. Ye can't be tellin' me, not even twenty-four hours later, that yer fuckin' fine!" He fumed, and was suddenly aware of how far away Laura was pushing herself from him. Taking a look at her terrified expression, Connor sighed. "Look, Laura, I'm not tryin' ta scare ye. I just want ta make sure yer fine. Let me see what they did ta ye."

"You won't like it." She whispered, eyes bright with tears. He was pleased to see that the swelling around her eye had gone down a bit, making it easier to see both of her eyes.

"I didn't like seein' ye with yer black eye either." He gently placed a hand at the side of her face. "I just need ta know that ye'll be alright." Connor smiled kindly at her, and he could see her expression flicker as she tried to figure out a way to avoid this.

"Fine. But I don't like this." She closed her eyes as she pulled up her shirt to rest just below her bust, refusing to move it any higher. "This is all."

He could tell she was lying simply from looking at the bruises all over her abdomen. They didn't look too bad, but there were something that disappeared below her jeans, and others that were visible from the neckline of her shirt. He decided for her dignity's sake that he wouldn't look unless there was just cause – and she was out cold. There were cuts on her arms, and a particularly nasty looking bruise on her ribs on the right side.

He hissed at the damage, but noted everything. "Is there… any damage on yer back?" Connor raised his eyes to look at her face, and she nodded, keeping her eyes firmly shut – as if she was afraid of his reaction. He kept his face and tone impassive. "Alright Laura, turn around, let me see."

Dutifully, she did so, revealing many equivalent marks on her back, and one gouge near her spine on her left side. Connor reached out and gently traced it with a hand, making her shiver.

"What was that from?"

Laura awkwardly cleared her throat. "One of them had a knife." Was her only means of explanation

Connor pulled his hand away, a disgusted expression on his face. "Fuck. We really let ye down, didn't we?"

She turned to face him, but didn't say anything. He already knew. Again he felt guilt for his responsibility in this. He was strongly reminded of the sermon he heard over a year ago, before any of this had even happened…

_"This poor soul cried out_

_time and time again for help but no_

_person answered her calls…"_

Connor shook his head, the echoing voice from the church ringing in his head as a reminder – the indifference of good men. Laura was immersed in the television, a news program he had left on. The headline story was talking about the Saints of South Boston. Connor watched Laura for her reaction, and was somewhat surprised when he didn't see one.

"How come ye didn't come here on yer bike?" He asked after a moment of silence.

She didn't seem to want to answer. "It's… busted."

"Busted?"

"Um, yup." She didn't give any further answer, so Connor let it go. The show flipped to commercials, and a catchy jingle rang out through the quiet of the apartment. Frustrated at the lack of communication between them, he tried to find something to talk about. Connor vaguely remembered that she had a pet when she had moved into the apartment, a little kitten. _Probably a cat by now._ It was as good a topic as any to start with.

"Will yer cat be alright?"

"H-he's dead Conn." Laura wouldn't look away from the tv screen, her voice sounding somewhat raw.

_Returning to the kitchen, she took in the scene, ignoring her disgust for the moment, memorizing it so she could draw her anger from it later. The floor was nearly saturated with red blood, a spray across the walls which marked the struggle. From the fan overtop of the light hung thin pieces of wire, and attached to each of these were the mangled and cut up pieces of Raja. There were seven wires in total, one for each of the legs, one of the tail and two for the head. On the floor directly below the fan was the rest of his body, cut into many pieces, the grey fur matted with drying blood…_ She shuddered at the recollection, holding back tears.

"O-oh. Shite, sorry." He felt more awkward than before. The two of them lapsed into silence again, with Connor watching her to see what had changed, and Laura ignoring the man sitting beside her.

They stayed like that for a while until a thought occurred to Connor. "When did ye last eat?" He asked quietly. She snapped out of her daze.

"Uh… Don't recall." She blinked, tilting her head to the side as she thought. It was only then that he noticed how unhealthy she really looked. "Days really blurred together. I think, er, yesterday afternoon. Yeah, that sounds right."

He shook his head again, and softly pushed her towards the guest room, masking his emotions. "D'ye have any clothes ta wear?

She shook her head. "Not with me, no."

"Oh." He paused. "Er, d'ye want ta borrow a shirt or somethin'? I know it'll be too large, but it's better than nothin'."

"Uh, sure?" She followed him into the room he shared with Murphy. Grabbing a t-shirt, he threw it at her which she caught haphazardly. "Thanks." She smiled softly at him.

He smiled back. "I'll go order a pizza."

She smiled thankfully, and disappeared away behind a door as Connor went back into the kitchen.

The phone rang before he managed to dial the pizza place, and he picked up. "Hello?"

"Fuck Conn, ye've gotta see this. Yer not gonna believe how trashed this place is!"

Connor sighed. "We let her down Murph. She can't even remember when she last ate, and she's got cuts and bruises everywhere."

"We let her down big time." His twin agreed. "There's blood, and … ye've gotta see it. I can't explain it. But ye shouldn't have made me wait. If those bastards were here this morning, I would've-"

"No Murph. We'll find the source, and take it out. As Da always says, divide and conquer."

"Fine. But ye wouldn't say that if ye saw what I've seen. They will pay. And I hope yer fuckin' right about this one Conn. It better be worth it." Murphy growled, hanging up.

Connor hung up the phone, putting it back down on the counter as he speculated what could make his twin so angry. He heard the soft padding footsteps behind him, and turned to see Laura standing at the edge of the kitchen, wearing his black t-shirt that draped off of her. "Was that Murphy?"

"Aye. He'll be back for lunch I think."

"Oh." Laura looked over at the cell phone. "Why don't you guys have two?"

"Huh?"

"Two cell phones, one for each of you. It'd make more sense."

Connor shrugged. "We share well."

Laura chuckled. "Well, if Murph doesn't hurry, you're going to hafta share the scraps of the pizza with him."

Connor laughed, and picked up the phone. "Feelin' hungry?"

"Yeah, a trifle." She smiled shyly.

"S'good ta hear. Lemme call the place, and we'll get ye some food."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Murphy arrived shortly after the pizza had, a grave expression on his face. He brightened considerably when he saw that Laura was awake, watching tv. Connor was sitting at the table in the kitchen, keeping an eye on her and slowly eating a slice of rapidly cooling pizza. Without catching her attention, Murphy walked over to Connor. "How was it?" Connor asked quietly, sending a nervous look toward the oblivious Laura.

"Brutal." Murphy replied honestly, seeming a bit more calm than he was on the phone. "The entire apartment's trashed, except for the kitchen, and her bedroom."

"Why those two rooms?" Connor turned to watch his brother pull a beer from the fridge.

"I have no fuckin' idea." Murphy shook his head, popping the lid.

Connor wasn't able to ask Murphy anything further because Laura walked into the kitchen with an empty glass in her hand.

"Hey Murph." She smiled at him, moving past him to get to the fridge. "Where were you?"

"Out." He cleared his throat. "Laura, those guys… do they know where ye're stayin' now?"

She froze, nearly dropping the glass. "I – I don't think I was followed. I made sure of it."

Murphy nodded. "Alright. Just wanted to make sure."

"O-okay… Um, I'm … going to go back to my show now." They could almost see her shaking, and she left with her glass still empty.

Once Connor was sure she was out of ear-shot, he turned to his twin, fury clear on his face. "What the fuck did ye do that for Murphy?!" He yelled in hushed tones.

"Look at her!" Murphy ordered, and Connor turned to see Laura curling up in a ball on the couch. "She's fuckin' petrified. We have ta find these fuckin' bastards. Now Conn."

Connor cursed. "What the fuck did they do ta her?"

"I don't know for sure." Murphy rubbed at his eyes wearily. "Look, go take a look at her fuckin' apartment. I don't know who these guys were, but I think they were only tryin' ta intimidate her. Why, I don't know. They went too fuckin' far."

"Aye. Did you see Smecker?"

"Nah, not yet. I was goin' ta do that next." Murphy picked up a piece of pizza while his brother laced his boots.

"Well, we can't fuckin' leave her by herself. I mean, look at her." Connor gestured to Laura, who had grabbed a pillow and was holding it to herself tightly. Murphy's expression softened.

"I'll keep her company. Are ye gonna talk with Smecker, or should I?"

"I was thinkin' that we should both go talk to him. Bring him here, or somethin'." Connor shifted his weight while he looked about for one of their black duffle bags. "I was just gonna swing by her apartment and grab some extra clothes and shit for her."

"Good idea. I'll call Smecker. Oh, and take this." Murphy threw a cell phone at Connor.

"What?" He barely managed to catch it.

"Figured that if one of us was here, the other should have a phone ta keep in contact." Murphy shrugged.

Connor laughed. "Laura just suggested that we should have two."

"Been here for less than a day and she's already ahead us Conn." He chuckled, taking his beer with him while he went, hearing the door close behind Connor. Murphy sat down on the couch beside Laura, making her look up for an instant. "Whatcha watchin'?"

"Dunno." She replied.

"Well, let's see what's on then, huh?" He asked cheerfully, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. He started flipping through the channels.

"Murph?" Her voice was quiet.

Keeping his cheerful facade, he replied. "Aye?"

"Where's Conn?" She played with a string on the pillow.

Murphy paused. "Out."

"I see." She didn't look up. "And where did you go, earlier?"

Again, a pause. "Out."

She sighed, looking up at him. "What the fuck are you two doing keeping things from me?" Her anger sounded more weary than outraged.

"There are some things Laura, that yer not supposed ta know. That ye really shouldn't know about." Murphy looked her dead in the eye. "Those men who attacked ye, they would be part o' that."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Connor quietly left the apartment, taking the duffle bag with him. He allowed his mind to wander while he walked to her apartment, trying to piece together what Murphy had given him. And what Laura had said.

_She said she didn't want to impose… what the hell did she mean by that? It's not like this is the first time she's come to us for help. It's not like this is the first time we've gone out of our way for her. What the fuck's changed? _

He shook his head. Every question he asked was only leading him to more that he couldn't answer. When he reached her apartment, he hoped that things would make sense.

Connor took the stairs up to her floor two at a time, glad that most people in the building were either at work, or fast asleep at this time of day. Her building was nice – a lot nicer than where the twins stayed. They had picked it out for her because they figured that it would be safe, no mafia presence in the area, fairly quiet neighbourhood. Looks can be deceiving, apparently.

The door to her apartment was ajar, probably from when Murphy went in earlier. Even from the doorway, you could tell that the place had been completely torn apart. Papers were strewn across the floor, there was stuffing from couches, chairs, and pillows thrown about, the mirrors were cracked or completely smashed. A chair was upended beside a bookcase that lay on the floor, and the books lay on the ground, one of which having a kitchen knife stabbed through it. There were stains on the wall, and it looked like someone had tried to rip the wallpaper off of it. Vulgar words and phrases were written across nearly every available surface, and there was a bucket with water and a sponge over in the corner where Laura likely had been trying to remove them.

Connor walked further into the apartment, pieces of glass cracking underneath his booted feet. The rest of the apartment looked pretty much the same, general chaos, expect for the kitchen. When Connor looked in, he saw wires attached to the fan, and the remains of a bloody smear on the floor. Mouth set in a line, he walked further into the room, and saw dried blood on the floor, and a knife set on the counter, edge browned with the dried liquid.

Continuing through the apartment, he saw the armoire in the hall, with a completely shattered mirror attached to it. The mirror in the bathroom was broken as well, but the rest of the room was relatively untouched. Turning around, he went into the final room, the one he had been avoiding – her bedroom. However, there appeared to be no damage done to this room. He put the duffle bag down by her closet, and focussed on his task. Going through Laura's drawers and closet, he grabbed some of the remaining clothes, stuffing them into the bag. Many looked like someone had come and ripped them, rending a large portion of Laura's wardrobe completely unusable.

Finally done, he zipped up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. He doubted that there would be much more any of them would be doing at this apartment. Murphy was right – those men had to be brought to justice, and soon. With one last look around the apartment, he left, closing the door behind him. Hopefully he'd never have to see something like this happen to a friend ever again.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

When he got back to their apartment, Murphy was waiting for him in the kitchen, and Laura didn't seem to have moved from the couch. She had chosen to now curl up near one end of the couch, as far away from the kitchen as possible, and had her head down on the pillow, either sleeping or watching tv still.

"And?" Murphy asked.

"We should've fuckin' taken them out this morning." Connor spat, and Murphy nodded.

"Aye, we should've." He sighed, looking over at Laura. "So, what now? Smecker's not gonna be around for a couple o' hours, he's got some crime ta deal with."

Connor sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. "Fuck Murphy, I feel like such a fuckin' asshole."

Murphy blinked at the non-sequitur but let his brother continue.

"I was so consumed at bein' angry with her that I didn't even listen when she was in trouble."

"Hey, it wasn't just ye-"

"And ye shouldn't have let me go on with that!" Connor glared at his twin, who quickly shut up. "What if that shite happens again, and something even more serious comes up?"

Murphy shrugged. "Then don't let it happen again. It's all up ta ye." He left the room to go check on Laura, letting Connor sit alone with his thoughts.


	5. V: Not the Reason

_"And when it rains,  
On this side of town it touches, everything.  
Just say it again and mean it.  
We don't miss a thing.  
You made yourself a bed  
At the bottom of the blackest hole (blackest hole)  
And convinced yourself that  
It's not the reason you don't see the sun anymore"_

**~When It Rains - Paramore~**

The sun had nearly set by the time that Paul Smecker appeared at the MacManus' apartment. Connor was brooding in the kitchen, but waved towards the agent when Murphy had let him in. The two of them joined Connor in the kitchen.

"Where is she?" Smecker asked.

Connor pointed to the living room where Laura lay on the couch. "I'd recommend ye ta take it slowly with her. We dunno all that's been done ta her, but she's been beaten, and I dunno all else. We think that some men were tryin' ta intimidate her, but neither of us have a clue why. Last month's been hell fer her."

Smecker nodded gravely. "What about you two? Everything fine?"

Murphy nodded. "Aye, we're takin' a bit of a break, lettin' things cool down before our next job. With Laura here, it'll be difficult to excuse our 'trips', so ta speak."

"And the state you come back in." He smiled bitterly. "I hope you boys know what the fuck you're doing. You want me to find out who did this to her, right?"

The twins both nodded. Smecker sighed. "Alright. But there'll be no interference, got it?" Again, they nodded, but didn't look too pleased with his condition. Satisfied, Smecker walked over to the couch, and sat down in the chair next to it.

"We'll watch though." Connor whispered to Murphy, who grinned tensely.

"Laura?" She looked up when she heard her name, and nearly fell off the couch when she saw an unfamiliar man sitting so close to her. She pushed herself away from him, sitting out of range, looking around warily.

"Laura, relax. I'm a friend of Connor and Murphy." Smecker spoke softly, realizing that the boys were right about the amount of trauma that she had gone through. He quickly turned off the tv to prevent any avoidance. "You can trust me. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to know what happened."

She nodded slowly, but didn't move.

"You look like you've got a few stratches and bruises there." He pointed at her arms which she tried in vain to cover. "Can you tell me what happened?" He had a notepad and pen sitting on top of his crossed legs.

Laura cleared her throat, still looking about for the twins. "Um, I, er, fell down the stairs near my apartment."

The twin's eyes widened in shock as they heard the outright lie spill from her lips. The two of them looked at her incredulously.

"Really?" Smecker continued as if he didn't know any different. "Are you sure? Usually there aren't so many injuries like yours from that sort of accident."

"Uh, yeah, well, I was carrying a mirror you see, and, er, I missed a step, on the way down, so, I fell, and the mirror smashed, and it kinda cut me as I fell." She played with the hem of Connor's shirt, not looking at Smecker.

"I see." There was silence except for the scratching of pen on paper. "Could you tell me when this was?"

"Uh, why?" She clearly wasn't expecting that question.

Smecker looked up with a friendly smile. "I just need to cross-reference it with other information that I have. It's just a formality."

Laura blinked furiously, mind churning as she tried to figure out what to say. "Uh, well, a few days ago?" She tried to make it sound convincing as she smiled at the detective. "I'm not really too sure." There was more scribbles on the notepad in the silence. Laura desperately wished that the twins were around so she didn't have to talk to this man anymore.

"What about your apartment?"

Another question completely out of left field, and she looked up in shock. "W-what about my apartment?"

"Well, from the report, it's been documented as 'fairly trashed'. Do you know anything at all about that?" Though his tone was gentle, his eyes were calculating. She shied away from those eyes – they knew too much.

"It's not trashed, I was just cleaning it!" She objected. Again, the twins shared a look.

"We need ta talk ta her." Murphy whispered.

"Aye."

In the living room, the interview continued. "Cleaning it includes writing all over the walls?"

"Uh, it's part of the re-decorating I was doing." Her excuse sounded far-fetched, even to her ears.

He sent her a knowing smile. "I see. You have an interesting idea of art there." Smecker looked back down at his note pad, writing another few things down. "What about the blood in the kitchen?"

This time, Laura decided to feign ignorance. "There was b-blood in the kitchen?"

"That's what the report said." Smecker looked up at her again. "I haven't been to see it yet myself, but I am headed over tomorrow."

With every word, Laura knew she was digging herself in deeper. And she knew just by looking at the man that he could see right through her. "I d-don't know anything about any blood."

"I see. Sorry, my mistake." Smecker smiled at her, inwardly frustrated at her lack of cooperation. He went through a few sheets of paper he had brought with him, "Alright, Laura, how about this. There are numerous reports of men who were supposedly bothering you. Do you know anything about that?"

The accusation was clear. Laura glared at him. "Look, contrary to your belief **detective**, I **am** trying to help you here!" She crossed her arms, anger momentarily taking over from the other emtions.

Smecker held up a hand to pacify her. "I'm not trying to say anything of the sort. Can you tell me anything about them, like what they look like, or give me a description?"

"There weren't any men." She responded obstinately, red spot growing on her cheeks.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure about this!" Laura yelled, wanting nothing more than to get away from him and his condescending tone.

"Please calm down. I'm just trying to get the facts." The underlying tone said, _I'm just doing my job._

"If would help if your facts were together before you fucking got here." She scoffed.

He raised an eyebrow. "There's no need for that." All at once she felt ashamed, and frightened. His steely gaze was turning her resolve to jelly. "Now, the information-"

"I don't know where you're getting your information sir, but it's all false." She looked away from Smecker to stare at the blank screen of the tv, inwardly having a panic attack.

"Please, call me Paul."

_After all that, he was some form of familiarity?_ She shook her head, seeing the new tactic he was trying. "I don't want to talk about this anymore please."

"Laura, I can't help you if you don't talk to me." He coaxed.

"There's nothing to talk about. I don't need any help."

Smecker sighed, seeing that there'd be no getting any further information. "Alright then. Here, take this." When she wouldn't look at him, he placed the card down on the table in front of her. "If you change your mind, give me a call." She didn't watch at he walked back to the kitchen.

"Well, that was bloody useless." Murphy spat.

"Not entirely." Smecker smiled as he saw Laura lean forward to pick up his card. "You two were right in talking to me. Whatever happened to her made her want to shut up. She especially didn't want to talk about the men who did this to her, which all but confirms your suspicions."

"So, what now?" Connor asked.

"Well, that is up to you. Without a description, I can't track these men down." Smecker shrugged. "My hands are tied. No report means no investigation. That's the problem with people who don't call the cops."

Murphy smiled ruefully. "Yer just bitter cuz you didn't get any help with our case."

"Maybe." He laughed. "But, as I said, I need more information. See what you two can get out of her, and let me know. Keep safe."

"See ye later Smecker."

The twins approached Laura as she hunted around for the remote for the tv. They stood at either end of the couch, and waited until she looked up and noticed them.

"W-what?" She tried to looked unfazed at their dark expressions, and failed miserably.

"Yer story's not consistent." Connor crossed her arms. Laura looked to Murphy for help, but found the same expression on his face. She sighed, but didn't speak. Laura looked down at the couch while she mulled over what to say, ignoring the impatient silence around her as the twins' hands twitched in unison.

Finally, "I didn't ask you to bring him into this. I don't want him to be part of this!" She glared first at Connor, then at Murphy. "I told you guys, it's my fight-"

"Yer fight ta lose if ye keep this up girl!" Connor spat angrily. "Can't ye see that we're doin' all this ta help ye?!"

"You don't even know if it's helping me!" She glared back at him, temporarily ignoring Murphy. "You two just fucking barge in, uninvited-"

"Ye 'invited' us when ye called us ye stupid woman!" Murphy fumed. "If ye didn't want our help, ye shouldn't've fuckin' called!"

"Where the fuck else would I go? No one else would be able to …" Laura paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Look. If you want me to leave, I'll go, but I was under the **impression** that I was to stay." She glared at Connor with the last jab. "Frankly boys, there wasn't any other options, but I'd really like it if you two meddlesome fuckers would stay out of my business." She got up from the couch and moved around it to get to the guest bedroom. Connor caught her arm harshly.

"Oh fuck ye!" He pulled her toward him. "If we hadn't've taken ye in, ye'd be dead already, so don't ye be makin' a mockery of our hospitality lass."

Laura shook her arm angrily, but couldn't get Connor to release her. "Let me go!" She punched at him, but he grabbed that arm as well, and pinned it against her side, rendering her effectively helpless. She struggled ineffectively for several minutes, frantically trying to get Connor off of her, momentarily forgetting where she was and what was happening. The familiar feeling of despair crawled through her, and she felt her movements growing listless, eventually falling limp, not looking at her captor.

"Laura." She ignored the accented voice, not wanting to see what would happen next.

"Laura." The voice was more insistent, more familiar. She still didn't look up.

"Laura!" Two voices in unison called her, and she looked up to see Connor and Murphy looking at her with concern on their features. "Shite girl, what's gotten in ta ye?" Murphy queried, and both boys were shocked when Laura collapsed into tears. Connor looked at Murphy helpless, and he only shrugged, as if to say, _well, she's in **your** arms_. He gestured to the guest bedroom, and Connor nodded.

"Shush now Laura, everything'll be alright." He whispered in her ear, picking her up and walking her into the guest room. She clung to him, tears staining his dark shirt. Connor gently placed her down on the bed, and moved a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Come now love, there's no need for tears." He smiled nervously at her, and Laura's crying quieted little by little until it gradually stopped. Murphy was lurking in the doorway, watching, but not interfering. "Now, Laura. We need ta know, from the beginning. What happened ta ye, what did they do ta ye?"

Taking in a shuddering breath, Laura began to recount what happened after she had left their apartment after arguing with Connor nearly a month ago.

"I was walking back home after we fought, but I kept getting this feeling like someone was watching me, following me. I figured it was just nerves at first, but then there were these footsteps… everywhere I'd go, especially if I was alone, I'd hear another set of footsteps behind me, and if I'd stop, they'd keep going for a few seconds before they'd stop too. The weirdest part was I never could see anyone around, the street, road, alley, whatever, was always deserted. It struck me as a bit odd, a bit scary, but nothing ever really happened, so I started to ignore it. But when the footsteps didn't go away, I started to get curious. Especially when I heard whispers."

"Whispers?" Murphy raised an eyebrow.

She moved to sit more comfortably. "Yeah, like people talking quietly a long way off, but you can still make out a few words if you really try hard. One night I did try to make out what they were talking about, but I stepped into the wrong alley by mistake. Then there were no more footsteps or whispers until I got out of the alley and back onto the road. They knew where I was going, and when I was making a wrong turn, but they didn't try to attack me or anything. Weirdest stalkers I've ever heard of now that I think about it."

"We wouldn't be having this problem if they had just been stalkin' ye Laura. They obviously weren't only interested in followin' ye." Connor pointed out.

"Yes, but I didn't know **that** at the beginning." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, after that came the banging on my door."

"What?" Connor stared at her.

"I'm not making this up!" She defended. "I assume it was these same men, but at around three or so in the morning, every morning, they would crash and bang on my door. Every time I'd go to look out the peep hole, there was no one there. Creepiest thing I've ever experienced. Um, and then to make it just a bit more creepy, they were watching me. I could see them now, they weren't hidden. There'd be a man staring from the alley up into my window, every day, a different man. Then at work, there'd be one just outside of the shop, 'browsing' the books, and another at the light post across the street. Or at least I think there was one across the street. I never got a clear look at him. When I would leave, they'd be gone as if they never existed, but there were always footsteps and whispers following me."

Murphy interjected. "D'ye know what they wanted?"

"Murphy." Laura crossed her arms. "What part of beginning do you find hard to follow? This is hard enough to do without you interrupting."

"Fine, fine." He held up his hands in defeat, then muttered, "Remind me never ta interrupt yer stories…"

"Thank you. Um, so, after that, I got a phone call. Told me not to be around you guys again if I valued my life. There was no explanation before you ask, so, no, I have no idea what that was about either."

"How long did all o'this take Laura?" Connor asked as she paused.

"Uh, a couple of weeks? Maybe more? It was a long while." She shrugged.

He sighed. "An' why exactly didn't ye tell us?"

"Uh…" She blinked a few times, not sure of what to say. "I… I just didn't want to bother you guys. I mean, it was just a bit frightening and annoying. I didn't think it was anything that bad."

"Laura, ye get a fuckin' death threat! What the fuck was goin' through yer head when ye thought that it wasn't that big o'a deal?!" Connor yelled, and Laura backed away from him.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Connor! Calm the fuck down!" Murphy yelled at him, making Connor back off.

"Shite, I – I'm sorry Laura. I didn't mean ta yell at ye." He leant to touch her, but she back further away, making him back off with a hurt expression on his face.

"C-could I get something to drink?" She appealed to Murphy who nodded.

"Gimme a sec." He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Laura and Connor sitting in an awkward silence.

"I really didn't mean ta yell…" Connor said after a few long mintues.

"I know." Laura paused. "I'm sorry."

"Fer what?" His expression was puzzled.

She looked down at the bed she was sitting on. "For… not telling you guys sooner."

"Why did you think you could handle it on your own?"

"I… because I should be able to." She asserted, without giving explanation. Murphy returned with a glass of water.

"Here." He handed it to Laura, who smiled at him.

"Thanks." After a quick drink, she placed it down on the nightstand beside the bed. "Um, so, yeah, they left me the phone message, and I ignored it. That was when we were going to watch the movie, and you two couldn't agree on what to watch. At first, nothing happened, so, I began to relax. They were still following me, still banging at the door, still visible, but nothing new had happened. I figured that I had beaten them. Then I got another message. All it said was 'you were warned'. I went to work that day, and when I came home, I found the apartment had been broken into. It was a disaster."

"Wait, after the movie? That was only-"

"It was a few days after that, so, really, only a week and a half ago Murphy."

"Why didn't ye tell us?"

Laura sighed. "Ask your brother. I've already explained it once."

"Actually, ye just said that ye shouldn't need help. That don't explain much." Both of them turned to look at her. She squirmed.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." She fidgeted with the hem of Connor's shirt again.

"Watch it, ye'll rip it." Connor warned, and she looked at him incredulously. "It's delicate…" He trailed off, and she giggled.

"Alright, whatever. So, I spent the remaining part of that week trying to clean up, until you two dragged me out to McGuinty's."

"That's why ye were so nervous a couple of weeks ago!" Connor burst out suddenly.

Laura looked at him confused. "What?"

"I moved ta sit beside ye, and ye flinched away. I asked ye why, and ye said ye were cold. It was because of those men, wasn't it?" He explained, and she nodded slightly, taking another drink of water. After putting it down, she started talking again.

"Um, after that, last Friday I found my bike mangled in the stairwell, it looked like it had been cut up by giant scissors, and the tires were melted, completely useless. I was late for work. I didn't even want to be there at all that day, I was so tired, but all my bills arrived, and I saw that I didn't have the money to not show up. I also promised you guys that I'd be at the bar that night, so I couldn't even just go home and collapse."

"Ye should've told us ye were tired if ye didn't want to be there. We wouldn't have held it against ye." Murphy protested.

She waved her hand at him. "No, no, I enjoyed it. It was the most fun I had all week. Um, when I left, I promised that I'd call you, and I was going to, but the men showed up in force, told me that I wasn't to speak with you, be near you guys anymore. They said that there would be a punishment if I ignored them any further, that this was my final warning. Then, after hitting me a couple of times in the ribs, they left."

"What?!" Both of the twins exclaimed, looking at Laura horrified.

"I-it's fine, it doesn't hurt anymore…"

"That doesn't fucking matter Laura!" Connor barked. Murphy continued, "Why the fuck didn't ye tell us any of this?!"

"I don't know! It wasn't something for you two to deal with anyway!" She shouted back.

"It had ta do with us!" Connor glared at her.

"Yeah, and none of this would've happened if I hadn't kept hanging out with you, so it's my own fault! For fucks sake, this isn't easy to tell you two, will you stop fucking interrupting me?!"

Connor fell silent. Murphy spoke. "Laura, it's not yer fault."

"Can I just finish telling you so I don't have to do this again later?" She asked tiredly. They nodded, and she took in a deep breath. "So, that's why I never called last week, and a few days ago when you two showed up at my door, that's why I didn't let you in. They had come back when I was out at work and trashed it again. Um, two nights back, when you got me to come out to McGuinty's with you…" She stopped, gathering her thoughts while the twins waited patiently.

"When I left and started walking home, they all appeared in the alley that I was trying to get through. I didn't even get time to react before they were on top of me." She winced, holding back her tears. "There were so so many of them; one of them had a knife he liked to use, another one had a baseball bat or something, but most of them just liked t-to beat me, throw me around. They left me on a pile of garbage, not caring if I was still alive. The last one to leave told me that I should've listened, that this was my fault. Then everything was quiet." She took a shuddering breath, but continued before either man could say anything.

"Somehow I got up. I don't know how, but I dragged myself to the corner of the street, out under the streetlights. There was a payphone, and I called you. Y-you guys know the rest."

"Fuck." Murphy spat from the door, and turned, leaving. Moments later Laura could hear a thud, and a crack.

Connor looked disturbed. "Fuck Laura, I'm sorry. We should've noticed sooner."

She smiled weakly, looking completely spent. "It's not your fault Connor, you didn't know…"

He closed his eyes, very much aware that it **was** his fault that the two of them hadn't gone to check on Laura, but he couldn't admit it to her.

"I-is Murphy going to be alright?" She asked hesitantly after a moment of silence.

Connor nodded gravely. "Aye. He just doesn't like ta see an innocent like yerself gettin' hurt. And neither do I." He gently pet her hair. "Ye should get some sleep. We're goin' ta need a clear description of what those two men looked like, alright?" She shuddered, but nodded. He smiled at her. "Good. Now, rest a bit, and I'll see ye in the mornin'. Goodnight Laura."

Coonor stood up and shut the light off at the door to the room. Before he closed the door, he could hear a whispered, "Goodnight Connor" coming from her bed. He smiled softly to himself.

A/N: Any inconsistencies with Laura's explanation of the past two chapters with what I have written all relate to Laura's state of mind. Given how much has been happening to her in such a short period of time, it's understandable that she'd get the timeline a bit muddled. Please do not leave reviews with comments about how what she's saying doesn't make sense with the rest of the timeline – it's not meant to. Thank you.


	6. VI: Find an Escape

A/N: Warning, there is religious debate in this chapter. If you are particularly sensitive to that sort of thing, please skip past it. The views expressed here are not necessarily my own.

_"And when it rains,  
Will you always find an escape?  
Just running away,  
From all of the ones who love you,  
From everything.  
You made yourself a bed  
At the bottom of the blackest hole (blackest hole)  
And you'll sleep 'til May  
And you'll say that you don't want to see the sun anymore"_

**~When It Rains - Paramore~**

Connor heard the crash from the kitchen, and followed the noise to find Murphy holding his bleeding knuckles while one of the cabinet doors stood bashed in two. Connor sighed. "Ye gotta stop doin' that Murph."

He sat down heavily in one of their kitchen chairs. "Fuck Connor. Doesn't it bother ye?"

"Aye, it bothers me greatly." Connor replied lightly, keeping his anger in check. "But until we get a description of those fuckers, we can't do a thing."

"Which is the fuckin' problem." Murphy looked across the table to his twin. "This demands bloody bloody justice brothar."

"Aye, that it does. We'll find them, track the bastards down, and take them out like the scumbags they are." Connor looked back at Murphy, unflinching in his decision, just as he knew that Murphy would stand by it unwaveringly.

Murphy nodded slowly. "I need a fuckin' drink." He got up and went to the fridge.

"A-fuckin'-men." Connor chuckled. "I'll check on Laura first though. She's havin' a hard time of it."

"Doubt ye'd do much better if ye went through what she did though." Murphy pointed out, taking a swig from his beer. "We should've fuckin' been there Connor."

Connor paused in the doorway. "I know Murphy. But sayin' that won't change that we weren't. S'in the past now. Let's just make sure this never happens ta her, or anyone else, ever again."

Murphy nodded as Connor left. "Amen."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Connor softly padded over to the guest bedroom, quietly opening the door to look in at the girl who was supposed to be sleeping. For all accounts, it looked like Laura was sleeping – she had her back to the door, and wasn't moving except for the steady even breaths she was taking. Except, when he looked closer, Connor noticed that the breaths were neither steady nor even, and she was moving – she was shaking. She was crying.

"Oh, Laura…" He walked to the side of the bed, and sat down beside her, gently stroking her hair. The door closed on its own, leaving the two of them in semi-darkness. He noticed that she had changed into her pyjamas while he had been gone, and he sighed. She obviously intended to suffer in silence. Too stubborn, too much pride. "Laura, look at me." He directed, and was moderately surprised to see her roll onto her back to look up at him, wincing from the pressure on her bruise rib. Connor could feel his heart wretch as tears rolled silently down her cheeks. "No love, don't cry." He gently brushed the tears away with a finger, smiling down at her. "It's not worth your tears." He received a weak smile, and was relieved to see no new tears falling.

Neither of them spoke for a while, Laura unmoving as Connor stared into her eyes, moving his fingers through her hair. She slowly reached a hand out to touch his leg, to make sure he was really there, to make sure he was actually real. "C-Conn-or?"

"Aye?" The frailty in her voice almost made him wince.

"Why?" It was nearly inaudible, and for a moment Connor didn't think she had said anything at all. He sighed, and hoped she was talking about her attackers, and not him and his brother.

"I don't know Laura. But ye can't be frettin' over this for the rest of yer life, or ye'll be stuck here forever. Jus' remember – none o'this is yer fault." She nodded slightly, and he smiled again. "Here, ye should go ta sleep." He made to get up, and she grasped onto the fabric of his pants.

"Don't go. Please." Connor didn't know if it was her frightened eyes, or her almost desperate tone that made him stay, but he lay down beside her, shaking his head. "Alright Laura. But just for tonight. Relax, sleep now." Rolling back over, she closed her eyes, relaxing in his arms. Connor was struck at how oddly comfortable this position was for him. As Laura moved closer to him, he came to the conclusion that he was strangely alright with how things were turning out. A wave of exhaustion came over him, and Connor closed his eyes, quickly falling to sleep.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

A half hour later, when his beer was long done, Murphy wasn't very surprised that Connor hadn't come back out of Laura's room. He just hoped that his twin was showing some common sense when it came to the traumatized girl. Turning off the lights, he headed to his room with a small smile on his face, and looked wistfully at the empty room before falling asleep.

Early the next morning, Connor was annoyed to find himself being shaken awake by a smug Murphy.

"Thought ye were goin' ta just check on her?" He chuckled and Connor reached around to smack him.

"Fuck off Murphy." He growled, obviously wanting to go back to sleep.

Murphy poked his brother. "Can't. If ye go back ta sleep, and she wakes up, she'll fuckin' freak, and ye know it. She's too worked up fer this right now."

That made Connor sit up rather abruptly, making Laura moan in her sleep. Both of the brothers froze, looking at the sleeping girl in something akin to terror. When she didn't wake, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"C'mon, let's get out of here before she wakes up." Murphy whispered, and Connor quietly slipped out of the bed, following his twin out of the room.

Connor went to the counter to grab himself a cup of coffee, and Murphy sat down at the table, allowing the companionable silence to stretch between them.

"Da called." Murphy said unexpectedly. "Wants me to go met him at the church."

Connor leant against the counter, looking at Murphy curiously. "Just you?"

"He knows about Laura." Murphy replied as a means for explanation with a shrug. "He agrees that she shouldn't be left alone."

Connor glared at his brother. "So why are ye going?"

Murphy snickered. "One, I was up first. Two, she trusts ye more."

"Ye don't have any proof that she trusts me more than ye." Connor replied stubbornly.

He laughed. "Conn, she fuckin' let you sleep in her bed last night. Given what she's been through, that's the proof – that's a lot of fuckin' trust." Connor simply glared in response, unable for once to come up with a logical counter-argument. "In any case, we still need ta know about those men. Fuck Connor, she actually listens ta ye, ye might be able ta get something useful out of her."

Connor sighed. "I guess. I don't like this splittin' up we've been doin' lately." The unspoken fear rested in the air between them; they were both aware that if one of them left alone, there was the chance that he'd never come back.

"Usually it's me doin' the worryin'." Murphy tried to joke just to break the tension. Connor snorted into his cup of coffee. "Fine, get yer ass outta here."

Murphy paused at the door. "I'll be back in a couple hours. Should we tell Smecker?"

"We'll track them down ourselves."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Laura awoke feeling fully rested, like a weight had been lifted from her mind. Stretching out on the bed, she was vaguely aware that she was missing something, or that something was missing, out of place. Running her hand under the sheets across the other half of the bed, she noticed that even though she hadn't been sleeping there, it was slightly warm. Almost as if someone had slept there the night before, and had only just gotten up. The memory hit her, and she coloured bright red in embarrassment, burying her face in her hands. _He's going to think I'm a desperate freak!_ Taking a few deep breaths, she looked around the room. Nothing had really changed, though there was a black duffle bag resting in the corner near the door where there hadn't been one before.

But what was worse was the quiet, coming in from all sides and embracing her like a scene from some eerie horror movie. The apartment was silent. Laura could hear the ticking of the clock from the kitchen, and muted noises from traffic outside her window. She sighed. Though she was used to being left to her own devices, she didn't like the idea that she was being left behind intentionally, especially in a place that was in no way hers. It was the sound of a chair leg scraping across tile floor that caught her attention – either there was someone still here, or someone had broken in. Laura shivered, and forced herself to remain calm through the onslaught of her memories. Gathering courage that she didn't know that she possessed, Laura slid out of the bed, moved on soft feet to the door and looked out into the seemingly empty apartment.

There were definitely noises coming from the kitchen, that much she could tell. The noises didn't sound too menacing, in fact, it sounded more like someone drinking something while reading off of papers. Curious, she peered around the corner of the door to look into the room, and was greeted with the sight of Connor sitting at the kitchen table, wearing only a pair of grey sweat pants, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. He hadn't noticed her arrival yet, for which she was glad as she got the rare chance to actually look at him. Her eyes drifted up from his pants, hidden under table, to his bare torso, with visible muscles that Laura hadn't ever noticed before, to his lean jaw, up to his dark blue eyes and short dirty blond hair. The problem with the MacManus brothers was that they were constantly in motion, never just staying in one place. Even at the sitting bar, there really wasn't a chance to see them; there was always something that was happening where they were the center of attention.

Then he looked up, and she was frozen, looking into those same dark eyes that captivated her so. And he smiled at her, so she blushed, muttering a quiet "good morning".

Connor was bemused by Laura's odd behaviour, but said nothing of it, pushing it to the back of his mind for later contemplation. "Good mornin'. Come sit down Laura." He watched her intently as she came into the kitchen, acting very much like a skittish animal. "Would you like some coffee?" He asked as she sat in the chair across from him.

"No, thank you." She whispered, looking over at the window by the kitchen sink, drawing her legs up so she could sit cross-legged on the chair.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, until Connor broke the silence. "Ye seem ta be havin' trouble sleepin'."

"Uh huh." Laura muttered, looking at her hands folded in her lap.

"Is tha' somethin' new?" He leant over the table to try and catch her eye.

She looked up for a second, then right back down at her hands. "No. Not really. I - I've had bad dreams ever - ever since I was a girl." She played with her fingernails.

Connor leant back in his chair. "What are they about?"

"I, uh, I'd rather not talk about it."

Connor raised an eyebrow. _That's unusual. She never directly tells ye that she doesn't want ta talk about something._ Outwardly, he nodded. "Alright, fine enough." She seemed releaved. He cleared his throat. "Laura…" Her head snapped back around to look at him, and he paused, considering what he would say. "Laura, we need ta know anythin' ye know about any of those men, names, how they looked, anythin'."

Laura swallowed nervously. "Uh, well, they didn't speak English, except for when they were talking to me. Other than that, I don't think I can help you, there were so many of them, they always wore black suits, one of them had glasses, another had a fedora… it's not much to go from." She shrugged, an apologetic expression her face.

"That's alright. D'ye know what they were speakin' when they weren't talkin' ta ye?" Connor leaned forward, curious. A language would give them a place to start looking.

She blinked. "I'm not entirely sure. It was… kinda like French, and kinda like Spanish, but not." Laura shrugged. "I don't really know, they were always talking really really fast, and half the time I, uh, couldn't focus on what they were saying anyway."

Connor sighed, leaning back in his chair. Another dead end. "Ah well Laura. Ye did what ye could. Perhaps Murphy can get some more information."

"Is he still sleeping?" She looked around as if to see him appear from behind the couch or through a door.

"Nah, he went out a bit earlier."

Laura glared at Connor. "Is it the same 'out' as yesterday?"

Connor laughed sheepishly. "Just ta church."

She raised an eyebrow. "Where **did** you go yesterday Connor?"

"Uh… jus' ta get a few things."

"May I ask what **sort** of things?" She posed drily.

He cleared his throat uneasily. "Jus' some clothes and such, fer ye."

"From my apartment?" Connor couldn't tell exactly what she felt from the question, but had a feeling that he was getting into something bad.

"Aye, from yer apartment."

She left the room without another word. He heard the click of the door to the guest bedroom shutting quietly, and again there was silence in the apartment. Connor sat, looking at the space where she had just been, then down into his almost empty coffee cup. _What the hell?_ He quickly got up and followed behind Laura, hearing nothing from inside the bedroom. Cracking the door open slightly, he peered inside, and was horrified to find that there was no one inside the room either. Forcing himself to remain rational, he crept into the room, looking around to see if perhaps Laura had hidden herself in a corner, or something like that. He soon found that the door to the balcony was slightly ajar, and he spotted her foot while the rest of her remained out of view. Letting out a breath he hadn't been aware that he had been holding, Connor walked to the glass door, opening it to allow himself to get outside.

She was standing with her back to him, looking out over South Boston. He leant against the door frame, and watched her for a moment. "Laura..." He paused, decided to forgo the accusations for the time being, deciding to reason with her instead. "What the fuck was that about then?"

"You weren't supposed to go there. You weren't supposed to see that." She said bitterly, looking down at the cars speeding past on the street below.

"Not seein' it wouldn't change that it has happened." He pointed out, and she growled.

"I could pretend that it didn't." She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning further out from the balcony.

"Pretending won't change reality love." Connor said softly, moving slightly closer to her.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't want to change it, I just want to say that it isn't so. That it never happened."

He laughed. "That doesn't usually work either. Most times what we wish to ignore the most comes back ta bite us."

"Oh, as if you would know." She spat out bitterly, angrily brushing her hair out of her face.

"Laura, don't make assumptions on things ye clearly don't understand." Connor replied coldly, face becoming stony. He saw her shiver, and decided to change his tactic. "Look, Laura, ye told us what happened ta ye, so why are ye so upset that we went to see yer apartment?"

"Because... I... It's – it's nothing, okay? Nevermind." She crushed her indecision with a brick wall, not giving Connor anything further to work with.

He moved to stand behind her. "Ye can't pretend it didn't happen by not lettin' us see yer apartment – we know ye too well, and this person isn't ye."

Laura shook her head. "It's – it's not that. If... if you and Murphy had seen it, well, then... now it's... real." She hung her head, and her hair fell around her like a curtain, blocking her from Connor's sight.

He stared at her, at a loss for words for a moment. Clearing his throat, Connor said, "It was real before hand Laura, whether or not ye decided to believe it was."

"Yeah yeah, and it's still all my fault too." She muttered under her breath, hoping that he wouldn't catch what she had said.

But he was standing too close to have missed it. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. "Wait a fuckin' minute! What the fuck is that about?! Ye can't be tellin' me that yer actually blaming yerself fer this Laura!"

"What else I am supposed to do?!" She glared at up at him, staring him down.

Frustrated, he rubbed his face. "Laura, they fuckin' tortured ye. That's not yer fuckin' fault!"

She shook her head. "You don't understand Connor."

"Then why don't ye fuckin' explain it ta me?" He glared at her, speaking tersely.

She sighed. "L-listen. They… I didn't exactly tell you **everything**. Not quite. W-while they were actually talking to me instead of just creeping me out, they'd say a lot, more than I told you. Things like how… how this was caused because…" Laura stopped, taking in a shaky breath. "Caused because I had started a fight when I shouldn't have. And that sometimes those people have connections to very powerful members of The Family."

"The Family?" Connor paused to mull over her new information. "Wait, started a fight? What's this now? Ye never start fights."

Laura coughed, turning slightly red. "Well, there actually were a few…"

"What d'ye mean, a few? Ye haven't fought since I've known ye." She looked down at the grating beneath her feet. Connor couldn't quiet hear the name that she muttered, sounding rather embarrassed. "I can't hear ye Laura. What fight?"

"I said, my family wasn't the nicest to be coming from. There's a lot of people who'd want to use to me to cause them pain. But... none of those fights were ones that I started. The only one I had started was… a month ago…"

"With who? And what's yer family got ta do with this?" The deeper he dug, the more convoluted the story became. Connor was beginning to get the feeling that, for once, both he and his brother were in over their heads.

Again, Laura turned red, and ducked her head, muttering her response towards the ground. Connor rolled his eyes. "Laura, I'm up here. Talk ta me, not ta the floor. Now, who?"

Hazel eyes met blue, and she swallowed nervously, afraid of the reaction her response would yield her. "Arlene. I started a fight a month ago with Arlene."

Connor cleared his throat, but wasn't sure what to say. "Look, are ye sure she's the only possibility? I... I know that ye and her never really got along Laura, an' I know she wasn't the best person..."

"Of course I don't know Connor! But you asked me for what I thought, so there you go!" Her yell took him aback, he wasn't used to Laura being quite so abrupt. He managed to clue back into what she was saying in time to hear her mutter, "typical males..."

"And what's that supposed ta mean?" He asked sharply, making Laura look up suddenly.

"That you'd much rather think with you prick instead of your head you stupid fucker." She shot back, fixing him with a fierce glare.

"Oh cut the self righteous feminism crap!" He crossed his arms, matching her glare, before adding, "I got enough of that with fuckin' Rosie."

Laura giggled. "Still haven't recovered from trying to make friends Conn?"

The look he gave her clearly expressed his opinion on her comment. "Ye still haven't explained what yer family has ta do with all this." He pointed out, trying to change the subject.

She shrugged. "Well, like I said, it could be about my family, I'm not sure at this point. I don't know all of my father's... contacts, especially not as of late. I could be totally off though, it could be about something totally different."

"What's yer father do? Ye've never told us." He leant back against the balcony railing, pleased to have narrowly escaped another argument. Connor noticed that Laura seemed a bit reluctant to respond to his question, making more questions pop up in his mind.

"He, uh, is in the field of ... well, as he put it, 'trading and acquisitions'."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Connor regarded her critically as she fidgeted with her fingernails.

"Uh, well, he never really told us." She looked away over the city again.

_Ye know, don't ye? What are ye protectin'? **Who** are ye protectin'?_ Connor decided that now was not the time to voice his suspicions. "Well, yer safe now. Like I told ye, the Saints'll protect ye." He asserted, and she scoffed.

"Your romanticised view on reality is quiet quaint Connor, but a religion based around an absent God can't protect anyone." Laura pushed past him to get inside again.

Connor followed her with a frown on his face. "And what makes ye think he's absent?"

"If your God loves the way it is claimed that He does, then why is there so much suffering? W-why..." She stopped for a moment, rubbing at her watering eyes as she pressed on. "Why do things like this happen to people who have done no ill?"

"Why is it that yer so good at findin' questions so difficult ta answer Laura?" He smiled wanly at her.

She smiled slightly. "M-must be a gift."

"Aye, and some gift it is." Connor grinned at her, and remembered an observation from a while ago. "Laura, a good friend of mine once said, 'the Lord works in mysterious ways', and he was right. Fer all of the terrible things that've happened ta ye, can't ye find at least one good thing that's come of it?" He pleaded, watching her eyes.

Laura sat down on the bed, deep in thought. "I... I guess..." She finally said, after a long moment of silence.

"Without these terrible times that we all have ta live through, we wouldn't know how good our lives truly are. Trust me when I say Laura, that the Saints will protect ye, from here forward."

"But Connor, there are no saints anymore!" She cried, looking for him to understand. "There are no saints, no messiahs, no more holy men. In their place are psychopaths claiming that they do their own Gods good work, committing terrible crimes and killing innocents in their way to an promised afterlife. This world is godless, for all the different gods that there seem to be! Your God is absent – all of those saints you hear of, they're all from ages long past. We have been abandoned, and must fend for ourselves. That is the way of this world."

He sighed. "If my view is too romantic, then yers is too dreary Laura." Connor moved to sit beside her. "I'm not askin' ye fer much. I just want ye ta trust me. Can ye do that?"

"Of course Connor." Her instantaneous reply was comforting for him to hear.

"Then trust that when I say that ye'll be protected, that ye will." His smile was warm, and she unwilling smiled back at him.

"All... alright. But only because you asked."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The conversation had been left after that, Laura asking for Connor to leave so that she could change. Instead of looking for breakfast afterwards however, she became interested in the morning news while Connor sat in the kitchen, looking woe-begotten at a half finished beer. It was then that the phone rang, a shrill noise that made Laura look up. Connor ignored it, staring somewhat vacantly at the beer in front of him. It rang again, and still Connor made no attempt to retrieve it from his coat pocket. Laura shrugged, and turned back to watch the entertainment report. On the third ring, Connor sighed, picking up the phone.

"Aye?" A pause, and Connor spoke again. "Aye, shouldn't be too hard. I got some of the information, but there's more here than we're being told again."

Laura listened intently to the conversation in the kitchen, straining to hear what Connor was saying, unable to hear who was on the other end of the line.

"Ye want us ta go ta the diner? As we are?" The question was somewhat sceptical. Laura listened to the pause, very much wanting to know the whole conversation. "Oh fuck ye Murphy!" Connor angrily shut off the phone, slamming it down on the table. Laura walked to the kitchen door, and saw the scowl on his face. "Fuckin' dress..."

"What?" Laura looked at him, confused.

"Eh? Oh, Laura." Connor smiled slightly. "Don't worry about it. Murphy's jus' bein' an idiot. Da and him are at the diner, we're headed down there now."

"I don't want to go." She turned to go back into the living room.

"What? Why not?" He stood up, following her as she left the room.

"Just... don't want to." She stood midway between the couch and the door to the guest bedroom, looking lost.

"Laura..." He gently touched her shoulder. "Ye can't hide away here forever."

"And why's that?" She demanded.

Connor smiled at her arbitrary argument, seeing his friend again. "Because the world won't be waiting fer ye ta catch back up."

With that assertion, she wilted, shoulders drooping, head dropping to her chest. "I know..." She whispered. "But I just wish it'd slow down for a just a bit."

"Well, I can't promise ye that, but I can try ta help ye get back ta speed Laura. And this is part of it." He replied coaxingly. She nodded, and walked with him, hand in hand, down out of the apartment.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Murphy hung up the phone, still chuckling.

Il Duce tried to cover a smile. "Ye shouldn't tease yer brother so. Was the mention of lace and ruffles really necessary?"

Murphy grinned. "Aye Da, essential even."

He laughed, shaking his head at his sons' antics. Taking a sip of water, a thought occurred. "What d'ye suppose they've been doin'?"

"From what I've seen, she talks more ta him than ta me, so hopefully he's actually payin' attention ta her fer once." Murphy rolled his eyes, and his father raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so ye've seen it too." Il Duce smiled. "Good ta know at least one of my sons isn't completely oblivious."

Murphy sighed. "I don't see how he can miss it Da. I mean, I know it's Laura, but still. Usually he's the first ta pick up on these sorts of things."

The older man shrugged. "The world is most blind ta what they most need."

At the door, they could see Connor holding the door for Laura, and the two men in the booth exchanged a smile. Laura looked about in the dim lighting of the diner before Connor gently took her arm and guided her over to where his brother and father were already sitting. Seeing the remnants of the abuse that Laura had been through, Il Duce's expression grew grave, but he quickly covered his displeasure as her eyes fell on him. She slid into the booth first, sitting across from Il Duce while Connor sat across from Murphy. The two of them had now engaged in a glaring contest, making Laura laugh slightly.

"How've ye been lass?" Il Duce asked, concern colouring his tone.

"Uh, alright I suppose..." She didn't look away from the menu she had picked up. "I guess that one of them told you about what happened then?"

"Aye." He nodded.

"So there's no use in trying to deny it?" Her question was extremely bitter. She didn't wait for a reply as she pressed on, looking directly into Il Duce's eyes. "I'm not doing too well Da. But... well, there's not much I can do. Not yet at least. I'm pretty sure that I can deal with these two though."

His eyes widened in surprise. "On yer own? After what they did ta ye already?"

She shrugged, not noticing how intent the twins were on her conversation, again staring at the menu. "They're not going to be expecting repercussions for their actions. That's why all mobsters act like they do – they know that no one can touch them. Or at least, that's what they think. With the stories of the vendetta style shootings going on recently, and the surprising job that the police is managing to do about some of the higher ranking mafia members, well, I'm hoping that the idea of untouchable men is quickly disappearing."

A waitress appeared at the table to take their order, doing a double take at Laura's appearance, but saying nothing. "What'll it be then?" Her smile was more fake than the cheese that they used on the hamburgers.

"Um, some pancakes please? And some orange juice." Laura spoke hesitantly.

"Two regular breakfasts, and two black coffees." Connor spoke for his twin with a smile at the woman.

"One of those omelette sandwiches ye have here, an' a refill on my coffee if ye please." Once Il Duce had made his order, the waitress whisked away back to the kitchen without another word, leaving a semi-awkward silence at the table.

Il Duce was the first to speak. "Laura, have ye been ta a hospital ta be checked out yet?"

"N-no… but I don't like doctors." She looked away quickly. He looked to his sons, asking them with his eyes why she hadn't been taken to one.

"Haven't had the time yet Da." Connor defended. "It's only the second day since she got here."

His father shook his head. "It should've been yer first priority. Especially with what's happened."

"Well, I don't want to go!" Laura glared at all three of the MacManus'. "Unless I don't have a say in **this** either."

"Laura-" Murphy started to speak, but was cut off by a gesture from his father.

"No, let the lass speak. There are obviously things on her mind." His tone spelt out a clear warning to Laura, who swallowed nervously.

"Da, I'm sorry..." She sighed when Il Duce indicated that she should continue. "Look, I don't like doctors, or hospitals, and I'd really rather not have to go to one. If you're worried about infections or whatever, then I'll go to a drug store and pick up one of those tests. I... just... No hospitals, okay?"

Slowly, he nodded. "If that's yer wish lass, I don't suppose I can dissuade you from that. But no more of this nonsense of this bein' yer fight alone. I'll not be lettin' ye get yerself killed fer pride. Everyone needs help."

Thoroughly chastised, Laura nodded meekly. "Yes Da."

"Good." He nodded, pleased with her response. "An' here's the food." He smiled at the waitress returned with drinks and their breakfasts.

The meal was filling, good, but an extremely awkward event for Laura. As she stared down at her pancakes, she got the distinct feeling that she was being watched, but each time she'd look up, the men were all conveniently engaged elsewhere, either looking at something in the diner, or talking to each other. Finally, when she looked up, she saw Murphy staring at her.

"What?" She demanded, feeling rather annoyed. He chuckled, and held his hands up in appeasement. Laura glared at him, but finished cutting up the final pieces of her pancake, looking suspiciously at the three men around her while she chewed.

When all four of them were done, Laura sat back into the corner, looking at the men while Connor and Murphy spoke in hushed tones, and half sentences that she couldn't quite follow. Il Duce smiled at her. "So what d'ye feel like doin' now lass?"

Laura blinked, the question coming rather unexpectedly to her. "Uh, I don't know. M-maybe I could go to my work, and talk to my boss, if he's in." _If he hasn't replaced me already._

Connor looked over. "S'good idea. Da, ye and Murphy were headed out, right?"

"Aye." Il Duce nodded. "Ye were headed ta the church?"

Connor nodded. "Laura, would ye want ta go with me? Yer works' on the way..."

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. "I have a feeling that even if I didn't want to go with you to the church, you'd go with me to my work anyway."

Connor smiled innocently at her, and Murphy chuckled. "Ye've got the idea of it Laura." Murphy joked, making her smile despite her annoyance.

"You two – three – are impossible!"

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Out on the street, after Murphy and Il Duce had left them, Laura fell into step with Connor. It was bright, cheerful, warm summer day. But Laura found no enjoyment in it. She was looking at Connor, who seemed perfectly at ease, smoking a cigarette. After a few blocks of silence, he sighed, throwing away the cigarette butt, and turning to look at Laura. "Enough already, what?"

Had she been in a better mood, she probably would have laughed at his aggravation. "I don't like this sneaky... stuff that your family is doing. Whatever you're up to, just stop it. I can manage myself just fine that you." She scowled at him.

He snorted. "And ye fuckin' proved that well enough already love. Laura, hasn't it occurred ta ye that we might be trying ta help ye?"

Laura shook her head. "Doesn't matter! If you were really trying to help me, you'd tell me what it is that you guys keep sneaking around doing! I'm tired of you treating me like I'm naïve or something, especially with wh-what's happened."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Laura, we're not tellin' ye stuff for a couple of reasons – yer fuckin' reactions, and some of this stuff are things that ye really don't need ta know. Yer actin' like a child."

Her glare grew worse, possibly because she was aware that he might just be right. "I... I'd just rather that you could trust me." She said bitterly, looking down at the sidewalk beneath her feet.

"I do trust ye Laura, but some of the things... Some things that Murph and I do aren't fer ye ta know. When it comes ta this, we're just tryin' ta look out fer ye. Ye've already said no ta us goin' ta the police, and I know that yer not gonna like knowing that we will-"

"Hey!" She interjected, looking rather hurt.

"Because it's what's best fer ye." He continued as if she hadn't said anything. "We can't hope ta find these bastards without outside help. And ye know that ye can't kill them." Connor smiled sadly at her. "I asked ye ta trust me, and ye said ye did. Show me that ye do."


	7. VII: Time Well Spent

_"Tell me where our time went  
And if it was time well spent  
Just don't let me fall asleep  
Feeling empty again_

_Cause I fear I might break  
and I fear I can't take it  
Tonight I'll lie awake feeling empty"_

**~Pressure - Paramore~**

Laura had always loved the atmosphere of South Boston – the way people in the crowds acted, the buildings, the food, just life in the city. Once she got over her initial bad mood, she found that the day wasn't as awful as she thought it was. _Just because you've been through shit doesn't mean you get to act like a spoilt brat Laura._ She smiled slightly at her inner voice chastising her, nodding to herself, and promising that she'd be a bit more sensible. She was struck at how silly the whole exchange had been, and giggled slightly. Connor looked back with a confused look on his face, but shrugged and kept walking. She smiled to herself again, not sure this time why.

As she trailed behind Connor, it has hard not to notice how well he fit in with the rest of the surroundings, how he seemed to melt into the scenery. She shivered at the eerie thought, pushing it from her mind. The twins weren't up to anything malicious, she knew them both well – they wouldn't do anything like that.

Connor paused, looking back at her. "I'm thinkin' that goin' ta the church'll take longer. D'ye mind if we go there first Laura?"

She gave him a long, steady look. "You were planning this from the beginning, weren't you?" He didn't answer the question, smiling widely at her. "My work isn't even anywhere near your church! Fuck, why didn't I remember that before! Fucking bastard..." He grinned winningly at her, shrugging rather than defending himself. Laura sighed, more irritated with him than actually angry, rolling her eyes. "Fiiiine. Jerk."

Connor waited up ahead for her to catch up with him, somewhat glad that she had agreed to going with him. He knew how stubborn she could be when she put her mind to it, and following her through all of South Boston to make sure she was safe wasn't a very appetizing notion for him. He hated having to keep secrets from her – though it was marginally better now that he knew that there was so much that she had kept from them. Still, holding the knowledge of what their jobs really were, where they really got their money from, what they actually did, from her was especially tiring, and it felt wrong to him.

Laura was one of their oldest friends, and aside from Smecker, one of the most observant. She asked too many questions, was too curious about the wrong things, and showed up at the worst possible moments. It was a miracle that she hadn't seen anything yet. Connor frowned for a moment as he walked beside Laura, a thought occurring to him. She hadn't been asking as many questions as she used to lately. Though he'd dismiss on knowing what had happened to her, except that she stopped asking several months back. In around the time she stopped showing up so much. In around the time when he had started dating Arlene. He inwardly cursed. How could he be so blind? How did he not see her leaving in a hurry whenever the other girl was around? How didn't he notice that she would make some farfetched and sometimes quite ridiculous excuses, just to avoid her? How didn't he see that Laura wasn't around anymore?

The two of them walked in silence, each absorbed with their own thoughts. Laura was brooding over the decision to leave the apartment, and Connor was watching her, trying to determine who she was now. And as they spent time on inward reflection, block after block passed behind them, bringing them ever closer to the commanding structure of the church in the middle of South Boston. As Connor walked purposefully up to the door at the side of the building, Laura hung back, unsure if she should follow him. He paused at the door.

"Are ye comin' Laura?" Though his voice was soft, she could clearly hear every word, even against the industrial noise of the downtown. She nodded, quickly skipping up the steps to stand beside him as he opened the door, letting her walk through first. She shook her head with a faint smile on her face. "Always the gentleman Connor..." She chuckled softly, and he smiled at her teasing.

"Aye, Ma taught me well." Both of them spoke in hushed tones, feeling the sacred atmosphere inside the church. Laura knelt beside Connor as he moved to a pew to pray. He looked over at her questioningly, and she shrugged. "Just because it's been awhile doesn't mean I can't at least make an effort."

He raised an eyebrow. "An' here I thought ye didn't believe in God."

"Well, it's complicated." She blushed, scratching her head. "I mean, my dad raised me as a Christian, but... after ... well, a lot has happened since then, so I kinda... fell out of belief."

Connor nodded, closing his eyes as he muttered words in Latin under his breath. Though he was focussed in prayer, his mind strayed to wander over what Laura had told him. For the three years he had known her, she had only mentioned her family a few times, never saying where she had come from, or even how she arrived in Boston. Today was the most information she volunteered about her family since he had known her, most of the time getting personal information out of Laura was a battle. He risked a sidelong look at her, and found, much to his surprise, that she had her eyes closed, whispering a prayer, face calm. Straining his hearing, Connor began to make out words, but not in English like he expected, instead, in fluent Spanish. _How odd..._ He resolved to ask her about it later.

To Laura, very little time had passed since she started her prayer. However, once she opened her eyes and looked around, she found that Connor was no longer by her side. Stifling her panic, she quickly found him leaning against the doorframe, waiting for her with an unreadable expression on his face. She smiled bashfully, and moved to his side. "Sorry."

He waved a hand. "No need fer an apology love. Jus' surprised at yer devotion if ye don't really believe in all this."

She blushed slightly. "Uh, shall we go?"

"Definitely."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

As they left the church, Laura sent one more backwards at the formidable structure, with the warm brown stones and ornate architecture. It was much different from any church she had visited as a child, instead, it reminded her of her grandmother's stories from when the old woman was a girl. Laura smiled slightly at the memory, turning to catch up with Connor who was already half-way across the plaza, headed down the route they both knew by heart.

"Ye seem ta be in a better temper." He observed drily, not looking at his friend.

She chuckled slightly. "I guess that after all these years, the church may not have entirely lost its' hold on me."

Connor snorted, but didn't press any further. He had other questions on his mind, and it was at least another few blocks to the bookshop where Laura had been working. "Ye've been talkin' a fair bit about yer family lately. D'ye miss them?"

The question sounded fairly neutral, but Laura looked suspiciously at the Irishman. "Er, well, not as such, no."

"An' what exactly does that mean love?"

Laura winced at his choice of words. It was useless to try to get him to stop speaking as he did – she had given up after a month when she had first met him. "Uh, well..." She paused, not sure where to begin. "Like everything that has to deal with family, it's complicated. My mama... well, I don't miss her. I never really knew her. I do miss my Grandma, but, not even wishful thinking would bring her here. As for my father... we ... we haven't been close in a while. Same deal with my brother."

Connor's brows furrowed in confusion. "How don't ye miss yer ma?"

Laura coughed awkwardly. "She, uh, died when I was very young. I was just turning three."

"Oh, I'm-"

She waved his concern away, interrupting his apology mid-sentence. "No need to be sorry Conn. I never even really knew her. She was very very sick. She died in childbirth, due to complications, likely due to whatever she was sick with. No, I didn't really have a mother. Instead, Grandma kinda took over her place for a while – she'd tell me stories, teach me all sorts of necessary things for a girl, things that a father wouldn't think of." Laura shrugged. "It may not have been perfect, but I loved my family."

Connor nodded mutely, unsure of what to say. "What changed?"

"Huh?" She looked over at him, puzzled.

"Well, you said 'loved', not love." He pointed out. "What changed?"

Laura shook her head. "Only you would notice that. Just a falling out. I, er, went to school, and moved apart from them."

Connor would have pointed out to Laura that what she was describing didn't usually constitute a falling out, and that it wouldn't keep her from her family, but he held his tongue. He had known her long enough to know when she was avoiding something. _The funny thing about Laura,_ he mused, _is that she'll never directly tell you when you're bothering her. She'll just avoid your question until you're fuckin' blue in the face from asking, and give up. _He sighed. "I'll find out some day Laura."

_Not if I can help it Connor._ "Uh huh."

They walked in silence for several minutes until Connor spoke up again. "So why is it that ye know perfect Spanish?" Laura looked at him, completely lost, and he tried not to laugh. "When ye were prayin' at the church. Ye spoke the entire thing in Spanish."

"Fuck, I forgot you knew all those languages..." She growled under her breath, and started to explain. "My Grandma was very traditional. She came from Spain with Mama, years and years ago, before my parents met. When Mama died, Grandma said that she'd want me to know their language, and learn their stories, all of the things that I would have learned if she had lived longer. Father... he was against it. But he would never step between Grandma and me, so, I learned Spanish, danced the flamenco, cooked traditional foods. When... when Grandma passed, Father turned his back on that part of my heritage, until he found that it would be useful within his business."

"Useful?" Up ahead, Connor could see the sign for the bookstore, but wasn't willing to let the conversation go just yet.

"Uh, yeah. There were some... associates of his, who, er, had difficulties with English. They were mostly Latino, so having a daughter already fluent in Spanish saved him some time and money." Laura now too had seen the sign for the bookstore. "Oh good, we're here. Are, uh, you going to come inside?" With one look at the expression on her face, she sighed. "Right, of course you are. Dumb question."  
He smirked as he followed her through the small door into the dim interior of the shop.

There was a blonde sitting at the counter. There was a blonde girl, chewing bubble gum, snapping bubble gum, while flipping through a glossy magazine, sitting at the counter. Laura suppressed a wince._ This was his fall back? No wonder he had hired me so quickly._ She shook her head, moving closer to get this girl's attention. "Hello?" The girl ignored her, too busy with her magazine to even notice that someone had come into the store.

"Hello?" Laura moved around a pile of books, coming into view of the girl at the counter, but still the girl either ignored them, or hadn't heard them, snapping her gum noisily as she flipped through the pages. Connor waited in the doorway, vague amusement playing on his face as he settled back to see what would happen. If he knew Laura well, as he did, then he knew that she had no patience for rude people.

"Hell-o?" Laura snapped at the girl, finally making her look up in surprise.

"Oh, a customer." The girl spoke nastily, sounding worse with her nasally voice. "Uh, welcome to the bookshop, buy something, we've got good things for sale." Her eyes dropped back to her magazine now her sales pitch was done.

"I'm looking for Peter." Laura crossed her arms, sending the girl a dirty look.

"Oh, yeah, he's out. Left through the back or something like that." She looked up, catching Laura's look. "Whaaaaat? Geeze, don't be a fucking bitch. I just work here cuz the other girl was an idiot."

"What?" Laura's expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"What, are you, fucking senile? Fuck, I'll use little words, okay." The blonde sighed dramatically, moving a bit forward on her seat. "So, my bestest best friend Arlee – you know her right?"

She looked at the blonde incredulously. "Uh, who?"

"Arlee! You know, Arlene Calvatti? Everybody knows Arlee!" The girl rolled her eyes, not noticing Connor in the background, or the intense stare she was getting from Laura. "Annnnnnyway, so, one day Arlee tells me that there's this bitch she totally hates, and she wants her to fucking disappear, right? Think her name was... Laurell... or Latifah. Or something like that. Doesn't really matter. Well, she talks to her daddy, and then poof! No more girl! Just like magic." The blond giggled. "Her dad's good like that. But, this job was open, and I needed the money, so, like, I talked to ... what's his name. You called him Peter. Anyway, he just sighed, said don't go into that back, that blockheads don't belong back there, which I don't get, cuz my head's not a block, so, yeah, I think he's senile or something. Er, d'you need me to write him a note or something?"

Laura pinched the bridge of her nose. "I wouldn't trust you to get it right dear." She sighed. "Alright, do you know when he'll be back?"

Amber stretched back in the chair, and seemed to be thinking hard. "Uh, well, he said something about not being able to leave me alone too long, and that he only wish he could have Laura back, whoever that is, so, uhhh.... dunno, a coupla hours?"

Laura grit her teeth. "Thank you, very much."

Connor moved to stand beside her, barely containing a smug grin. "Are we going through the back then?"

Laura shook her head. "Nah. If Pete was ever specific about anything here, it was don't go into the back." She paused, then laughed. "Not even if there was a fire."

Amber interrupted the conversation, sitting up interestedly. "Who's this now?" She licked her lips, then sent an suspicious look to Laura. "He's not _yours_ is he?"

"Uh... no." She blushed, feeling furious.

Amber nodded, an ugly smile on her face. "Figured as much. Given how you look, you wouldn't be able to get anyone who's not senile already. Is that how you know Peter?" Her smile grew even more nasty, if that was at all possible.

Connor scowled, but before he could defend Laura, she stepped in smoothly. "That's all well and good Amber, but at the end of the day, at least I can get a job without having to ask for help from my 'bestest best friend in the whole universe'." As Amber sputtered angrily, Laura turned to Connor. "C'mon Conn, let's get out of here. I'm afraid it might be contagious."

Connor chuckled as he left the store, but Amber caught Laura's wrist before she could go. "Wait. That's... Arlee's Conn?"

Laura sneered. "He doesn't belong to that whore."

Amber's eyes went wide, first with fear, then with glee. "You better be a fast runner. She doesn't like when people meddle with her toys. I should know."

"Well, I don't like people meddling with my friends heads. She can go fuck herself for all I care. I'm not scared of a bratty mafia princess." Laura rolled her eyes, shaking out of Amber's grip.

"You'll regret it!" Amber called as the brunette left the store.

Connor smiled at Laura when she met him out on the street. "So, where ta?"

Laura shrugged. "Dunno. I'm... actually kinda enjoying being outside." She smiled shyly at him.

He laughed. "I'll take that as a thank you then." His phone rang. "Fuck!" He pat at his pockets until he found the lump that was his cell phone. "Hello?" Laura listened to the response, but couldn't understand anything. Whatever it was trouble Connor greatly. "So she's back then. ...Nah, it's just funny ye mention her, we were talkin' ta a friend o'hers. Yeah, fuckin' took Laura's job. Dunno how accurate her story is though. ...Oh, did ye? And? ...I see. Alright, we'll be there. Yeah. He's comin'? Alright. I'd like ta tell him a few things. Yeah. See ye." Connor hung up the phone, noting – and ignoring – Laura's curious look for the time being.

"Murphy?" She finally asked, curiosity winning out over her patience.

He nodded. "Aye. We've got someone fer ye ta talk ta."

She sighed, drooping. "Someone else I hafta tell my story to?"

"Sorta. C'mon. Won't take long ta walk." He held out a hand to her, and she reluctantly took it, following him back to the home they temporarily shared.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The interior of the apartment was silent, save for the steady ticking of the clock. Three men sat impatiently, two in the kitchen, quietly discussing a matter that resulted in grave expressions, and one in a arm chair in the living room. The jingle of a key in the lock announced the end to their waiting, and all three men turned to look at the door expectantly. Laura walked through first, then Connor. Laura quickly looked around the apartment, sending a smile to Il Duce, and trying to hide a grimace when she saw Smecker sitting across from Murphy in the kitchen. Connor quietly shut the door to the apartment, and went to join his father in the living room, sitting down on the couch, a quiet conversation engaging almost immediately. Feeling a bit out of place, she saw Murphy gesturing for her to come into the kitchen and sit with them at the table.

"Hello again Laura." Smecker nodded courteously towards her as she sat, a wry grin perched on his lips.

"Uh, hi." She smiled weakly, feeling guilty and somewhat nervous for her deception from before. She couldn't detect any animosity from the detective, but she couldn't see much of any emotion from him. It was a professional mask, cool and emotionless. Unnerved, Laura turned to Murphy. "Um, I heard that you were going to, uh, talk with police?"

"Aye." He nodded toward Smecker. "This would be our favourite."

"Oh, I'm flattered." Smecker deadpanned, making Laura grin. Perhaps things weren't quite as bad as she assumed them to be.

"Ye should be. Takes a lot ta be our favourite. Jus' ask Laura." He winked at her, making her blush. Smecker raised an eyebrow, a gleam in his eye. "Oh? Well then, how do you do it Laura?" She squirmed in the chair, feeling even more embarrassed than before, hiding her head.

"Uh..." The two men laughed at her flustered expression.

"Sorry Laura, couldn't resist." Murphy chuckled. "Alright, I've been talkin' with Smecker here, an' he says that he can only help if ye were ta give him some information."

"Information?" She stuttered, looking warily at the FBI agent.

"Just what you told the twins, nothing you don't want to talk about." Smecker reassured her. "Just make sure it's true this time."

Laura nodded, quelling her raising panic, and trying to ignore her rising blush. "Guess I deserve that." He nodded, and she sighed. "Looks like I have no choice then. Uh, where would you like me to start?"

"Well, a description of the men, and any names you might have managed to hear would definitely help. Murphy told me already what happened at your apartment, so I won't need that. Just any extra details that you can remember."

"O-okay, I think I can try." She cleared her throat. "There were a lot of them, at least ten. I never caught any names, and they were always wearing the same black suits, almost like a uniform. The only men who had distinctive traits was the one with the fedora, and the other one with sunglass. Aside from that, I don't think I can give you anything else useful description-wise."

Smecker was writing on the same notepad from before. "That's alright. Go on."

"Uh, well, aside from that, they didn't speak English unless they were talking to me."

He looked up. "Could you say what language they were speaking?"

Laura shook her head. "Sorry, but no, I'm not familiar with it. All I can say is that it was like French or Spanish, but not."

Smecker nodded gravely. "Alright, that's fine. Anything else you can recall?"

"Not offhand, no. Sorry..."

He waved off the apology, his tone somewhat terse. "It's not your fault Laura." Taking a brief look over his notes, he nodded, seeming satisfied. Smecker then looked over at Murphy, who had been listening silently to the exchange. "You said your brother had something he wanted to discuss?"

Murphy nodded. "Aye. Ye go interrogate him now. I wanna talk ta Laura..."

Smecker chuckled, and sent Laura a bemused look. "Watch yourself, his interrogations are worse than mine."

Laura couldn't help but smile, despite the tension. "Oh, don't worry Detective Smecker. Him I can work around."

Smecker winced at the title. "Please... call me Paul. I didn't just say it to get you to trust me."

She gave him a small smile. "Alright then Paul." As an afterthought, she tacked on, "You should really get to your interrogating though."

Murphy held back a laugh at the measured look that Smecker gave her. She didn't flinch, giving him an equally defiant stare. In the end, Smecker folded first. "I suppose I should..." His voice sounded like he was thinking about something else entirely.

Laura looked over at Murphy. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Somethin's been buggin' me since ye got here Laura." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt as he continued. "That fight, between ye and Arlene... It doesn't make any sense. Ye don't fuckin' fight people. I've heard ye been insulted by idiots before, and ye didn't even fuckin' raise a finger. I mean, I know ye didn't like her, but fuck! I didn't think ye'd attack a girl fer that. I remember that ye said that she was insultin' Conn, but I didn't think that'd be enough to make ye go off the deep end."

Laura suddenly became extremely interested in the table, and didn't say a word. Murphy watched as she drew patterns on the surface of the table, giving her several minutes in which to answer. She didn't speak.

"Laura-"

"What did you think of her?" She suddenly asked, looking directly into Murphy's eyes.

"Uh, well, Connor seemed ta like her... I didn't really, but it wasn't up ta me ta decide."

Laura nodded. "She... she's a whore. I went down to McGinty's that day to talk to her. I wanted to understand why she was treating Connor like she was. She fucking-" Laura paused, took a deep breath, then started to speak in a more level tone. "She was drinking at the bar when I came in, so I went to talk to her. I tried to apologize for my behaviour toward her previously, thinking perhaps I had gotten her personality wrong, that we had gotten off on the wrong foot or something. But she proved me right. Either she was drunk, or didn't realize who I was at first, but she told me that all she really wanted Connor for was a status symbol – she felt that because of how he looked, she'd get more attention out of it. I'm pretty sure she was two-timing him on top of just being a regular manipulative bitch." Laura sighed. "The only reason we fought was because she slapped me. I would've kept yelling at her if she hadn't."

Murphy's lips had set in a line, eyes bitter. "I had a bad feelin' about her. I wish I had fuckin' paid attention now." He smiled slightly. "Though, it's quite the reversal."

"Huh?"

"Well, usually it's me who makes all the dumb decisions, and Connor's the one who always knows better." He shrugged. "S'kind o' weird to be in the opposite seat fer once."

Laura laughed. "Well, don't get used to it. I'm pretty sure this was a onetime thing for Conn."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Smecker reclined on the couch by Connor, waiting for the other man to speak. If he had learned anything in the past two years that he had known the twins, it was pointless to try to rush Connor, much better to wait until the Irishman had his thoughts in order before demanding answers.

"I'm pretty sure this involves the Calvatti's." Connor spoke suddenly.

Smecker blinked. _Well, that was abrupt. _"The Italian Family?"

"Aye. Somehow, Laura's managed ta go an' anger the wrong fuckin' sort o' people." Connor spat out bitterly, and Smecker could hear the remorse beneath the angry words. _You're still blaming yourself for this... _"How exactly would she have managed that?"

"I don't know." He said, both defeat and frustration in his voice. "I didn't even know that we even knew someone who was connected to them until today. It's fuckin' annoying if ye ask me."

"Even more so for me Connor." Smecker scratched at his head. "Alright, so, who's the connection?"

"My ex. Arlene Calvatti. She never even fuckin' told me." He glared morosely at the table in front of him.

"And you think she arranged a fucking hit on Laura?" Smecker shook his head. "If she was this petty why the fuck were you with her? What the fuck is this, chick fighting gone bad?" At the vicious look Connor sent him, Smecker relented. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. But who the fuck takes jealousy to this kind of level? Unless..."

"Unless?" Connor looked up hopefully.

"Unless there's something that Arlene knows that we're not partial to. Because jealousy as a motive is pretty damn stupid here." Smecker's pager beeped, and he cursed. "Fuck. You haven't been doing any jobs lately, have you?"

"No, we haven't had the time. Why?" Connor replied, perplexed.

"Because I'm headed to another crime scene."


	8. VIII: Feeling Empty

A/N: Alright, so, after a lot of editing, I have managed to re-write chapters one through eight. Hopefully the edited version is much better than the original. I spent a lot of time on this, and I think now that the plot has be changed, the story is a lot more interesting. Please let me know what you think.

_"Now that I'm losing hope  
And there's nothing else to show  
For all of the days that we spent  
Carried away from home_

_Somethings I'll never know  
And I had to let them go  
I'm sitting all alone feeling empty"_

**~Pressure - Paramore~**

After Smecker had all but run from the apartment, both Murphy and Laura looked over at Connor for an explanation. Connor shrugged. "Said that he had been called to a crime." He made a gesture to Murphy which Laura completely missed, indicating he'd talk more to his twin about it later. Murphy nodded. Il Duce took this moment of peace to say his goodbyes and leave the apartment for a reason he didn't state.

Connor turned on the tv, and started flipping through the channels, as Murphy pulled two beers out of the fridge. Laura watched them, bemused. They really did act like one unit – each knowing what the other wanted, before anything was said. Sometimes it was good – they were more in sync than other people, they knew each other better, they even seemed to listen to each other better than other people. _But there were problems with this close nature,_ she mused, as she was left alone at the kitchen table, looking into the living room.

_Outside looking in…_ The thought rang through her head, in a curious mocking tone. Though they'd never intentionally leave someone out, their close relationship prevented many people from getting into their lives. Often times, Laura would find herself sitting back while she watched the twins doing something, something that she couldn't join in with, simply because she wasn't one of them, even though she might have wanted to. It was like looking into a brightly lit, warm window, on a cold night, stranded on the street. She knew that it was a brotherly bond from when they were young children, but it didn't stop her from feeling just a little bit hurt. _Connor's got Murphy, and Murphy's got Connor. Who do I have? _She sighed, feeling suddenly very tired. Quietly, she got up from the table, and walked to the guest room, closing the door with a faint click behind her. Going to the glass door, she walked out onto the balcony, leaving that door open behind her. She smiled into the cool breeze, listening to the sounds of the city that ran on below her.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

After a few shows, Murphy looked up. "Where's Laura?" He had seen her leave the kitchen, but had assumed that she was going to the washroom or something like that.

Connor shrugged, engrossed in the opening of a crime drama. "Dunno. Can't be far though. Why don't ye look fer her?"

Murphy sighed, dropping the empty bottle on the table with a clatter and getting up from the couch. "Lazy fucker."

Connor snorted, but didn't say anything, taking another swallow of his beer. "She's partial ta the balcony." He called over to his shoulder as Murphy approached the door to the guest bedroom. Murphy nodded, sending a quick look down the hall to find the bathroom both open and empty. He pushed open the door to the guest room, and disappeared into the room, seeing that it was empty as well. However, the balcony door was open, so he walked out into the sunlight, to find Laura sitting on the fire escape, looking out over the city.

"Hey." He spoke quietly, walking over to lean against the railing near her.

"Hey." She replied, still looking out the cityscape.

An awkward silence fell slowly between them. _Alright, this is weird. We never have awkwardness. That's more for her and Conn._ Murphy coughed. "Are ye alright?"

"Uhhhh huh." The response, though cheerful, sounded more than a little strained.

Murphy pulled out a cigarette and started smoking. "Ye've got somethin' on yer mind."

"I marvel at your powers of observation Murphy." She deadpanned, not looking at him.

"Fine! If you don't want to fuckin' talk, then don't." He spat bitterly, gesturing with his cigarette between his fingers. "See if I fuckin' care. But don't come complainin' ta me later." He turned to go, muttering angrily under his breath about stubborn women.

"Murphy..." Laura sighed, hopping down from her seat, and grabbed his arm before he could go inside. "I – I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you."

He crossed his arms stubbornly, shoving the cigarette back in his mouth while he waited for her to continue.

She winced at his expression. "L-look. It's just... all this stuff... everything's been a ... bit fast to process, right?"

He nodded. "Aye, but that's no reason ta take it out on people who're tryin' ta fuckin' help ye." She muttered something under her breath, and Murphy cocked an eyebrow. "What was tha'?"

"N-nothing." She said with determination. "It was... cruel." Laura sighed again, registering his uncompromising stance, knowing that there was no way out. "Look, Murphy, I... I don't fit here. You've got Connor, and Connor's got you. That's... how it goes, I guess. The sooner I head out, the less of a burden I am to you two."

"What the fuck are ye talkin' about Laura?"

She laughed, a humourless sound. "You guys just don't get it, do you?" She absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair, looking back out over the street. "You two are so close, you actually seem like one person. No one can get close to you, no one can get in. You don't **let** anybody in. I, I mean, with what happened, and how it's all my fault anyway, I can understand why, but-"

Murphy interrupted her with a growl. "Laura! Fer Christ's sake, it's not yer fuckin' fault! These bastards just fuckin' picked ye up off the street, alright? There's nothin' more ta it."

Laura just shook her head, not saying anything during his tirade. When he was finished, she spoke up, looking defiantly into his eyes. "No, you're wrong. You don't understand Murphy – neither of you guys do. This wasn't random; it had to have been planned for a long time before it was acted on, otherwise it wouldn't have worked! I was targeted, and I don't understand how you don't see this. They spent time learning my routine, learning who I associated with, where I would go during the day, what my favourite restaurants were... it wasn't random. And **yes**, it **was** my fault. They told me, and it's a direct result of my actions." She shook her head with a rueful smile, no longer staring Murphy down. "Though, even if I knew that this would've happened, I wouldn't have changed what I did. She deserved that and more."

This new information had Murphy reeling. "Wait a fuckin' minute! How long were these bastards fuckin' stalkin' ye? Why the fuck didn't you tell us all this before?!"

Laura shrugged. "You never asked. I just thought it made sense given the fact that they were stalking me. That sort of thing doesn't come out of the blue." She moved to sit back on the fire escape. "Besides, I figured it wasn't that important."

"Wasn't... wasn't important?" Murphy couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Uh huh." She replied cheerfully, once again staring out at Boston.

"And what the fuck would make you think that Laura?" The question was filled with an odd mix of exasperation and anger that almost made her laugh.

Again, she shrugged. "Just... well, it didn't occur to me. I mean, cuz you weren't there, you didn't have them following you. I forgot what you knew compared to what I know." She settled back into the stair. "Like I said, s'not important, it doesn't matter. I told you already that I felt like I was being followed, and no, I don't have a clue for how long they were doing this for, and that this happened cuz of me messing with a member of the Family. Doesn't it already stand to reason that this would mean that they were keeping tabs on me before any of this started?"

"And... this doesn't freak ye out?" He was still trying to get his mind around the blasé nature in which she accepted this.

"Nope." Laura chirped, looking up at the cloud formations in the sky, wishing that Murphy would just go away and leave her alone to think.

He moved closer to the fire escape. "So yer completely fine with the idea that nearly ten men, possibly more, were fuckin' stalkin' ye fer a month?"

"Uh huh." She looked up at the roof now. "S'not the first time it's happened."

"Not the first – fuck! That doesn't make it okay!" Murphy looked like he was ready to rip his hair out. "Jesus Christ woman, what's **wrong** with ye?!"

Laura looked over at him, and stifled a giggle with her hand. She reached over to tousle his hair. "Calm down Murphy, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me so much, I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

"And the last time we didn't fuckin' worry about ye so much, ye ended up being fuckin' assulted!" He shouted, trying to curb his frustration, and failing, brushing her hand away. "Laura... look, I don't doubt that ye can do fine on yer own, but not right now! Ye were used as a fuckin' punchin' bag, ye can't just go about claimin' yer fine! Fer fuck's sake, ye've still got a bruise round yer eye!"

She nodded darkly. "But I managed that on my own too. I was the one who got myself out of there, by myself." The accusation hung heavily in the air between them.

"We didn't know ye were in trouble Laura. Ye didn't let us know." Murphy sighed, a pleading note in his voice as he tried to make her understand.

"You didn't look." She replied lightly.

His dark eyes met hers. "Ye can't keep holdin' this over us. It was one mistake-"

"That nearly cost me my life Murphy!" Laura interjected. "I know, it's in the past, and it can't be changed, but ... just, tell me this. Why didn't you even look? Was it that hard to see? I was petrified! I have never felt so scared in my life Murphy."

He shook his head. "If we knew ta look, then maybe we would've seen it. But we didn't even know that this could happen ta ye of all people. Because, Laura, ye were always fine lass. That's why I say we're not doubtin' yer abilities – we both know what yer capable of, an' when yer overstepping yer capabilities." He gave her a steady look, and she had the decency to duck her head and blush. "Ye could handle alright when I tried ta protect ye from that bastard Jason – ye did a better job with him than I could've. Ye were more than a match fer most drunken pricks that Conn couldn't move ye away from fast enough. And, this one time... this one time we weren't tryin' ta help ye... ye needed our help."

She smiled ruefully at him, bitterness gone from her expression. "Kinda sucks how that happens, huh?" She moved to his side. "Hug?"

At the pleading expression on her face, he chuckled slightly, enveloping her in his arms. "Any time Laura. Any time." He pulled back, and looked down at her. "But I don't want ta be hearin' about this being someone's fault again, alright? It's not our fault, and it's certainly not yer fault. We're fuckin' sorry we weren't there fer ye, but there's not much that can be done about it now, especially not if ye won't even fuckin' tell us all we need ta know ta help ye. We can't help ye if ye won't **let** us help you! We're yer friends Laura, fuckin' talk ta us fer once! Ye can trust us."

She paused, weighing the consequences of what she might say. "I... I know. I'll try to talk, it's just… harder than you'd think.

"Oh, I know it's hard Laura. It's the hardest and most brave thing a person can do, admitting they need help."

She smiled at him. "Thank you – for everything."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

After that, Laura came to the living room to sit near the boys, watching tv with them. She smiled at the twins, who weren't paying any attention to anything but the plot of the program on the tv. Whenever the commercials would come on, a heated debate would start up between the twins about something in the show, and they'd drag Laura in, making her the judge more often than not. So many times she couldn't see for tears of laughter in her eyes, and couldn't breathe for laughing so hard. Sometimes they would get so far into their debate, they'd start wrestling on the floor, only letting up when the other would say their equivalent to 'uncle' – "yer the older twin". Laura had to move the coffee table behind the couch so that they wouldn't roll into it and hurt themselves. Or break the table.

Every now and then, she'd get up, pace for a bit, but a look from Murphy would be enough to make her sit down instead of trying to seclude herself again. He was good like that. She paused for a moment, thinking over what he had said, before shrugging and turning back to watch tv. When she was hungry, she tentatively raised the question of food, to which Connor cursed their inattentiveness, and quickly scoured the fridge to try to find something remotely edible, Laura hanging over his shoulder, giggling and shrieking as he pulled out biohazards from inside with some the most hilarious faces she had seen him wear. Much later in the night, she reluctantly went to bed, hiding a smile as Connor brought her to her room, and gently pushed her inside. She quickly changed, and hid in the bed, closing her eyes and quickly falling to sleep.

It was then the nightmares began.

Faces blurred past behind her eyes, nearly faster than she could process, screaming, laughing, pointing, calling. A small girl with blond curls, accusing. Man with dark hair streaked with grey, stern and judging. A man with a scruffy, roguish appearance, smirking, sneering. A blonde, whorish and grinning, flanked by two dull-witted clods brandishing blunt instruments. And finally, the two Irishmen she had come to know as a family – seeming... disappointed? Laura thrashed in the bed, trying to escape the spectres of her dream state, unable to run from the worries and memories that plagued her waking thoughts, which now invaded her sleeping visions.

Voices in her ear, voices in her head, following her as she ran through the empty, foggy streets of this city she had come to call home. They haunted her step, doubted her decisions, questioned her every action, ridiculed her every movement. Weary, exhausted, she stumbled and fell, coming to a stop by a lake in the Boston Public Gardens beneath a drooping tree. Hidden by the branches and green leaves, she was safe from the words of contempt that harried her progress. Then in came one of the ghostly images, Connor stood by her side, saying nothing, watching. Whispers were heard from outside the boughs of the tree, growing in force, until the crescendo made her cry out, holding her ears in pain. And so she awoke, panting, sitting in the bed, looking around the dark room. A slice of moonlight was the only lighting, and the curtains fluttered in the slight breeze. She could feel tears falling down her face, but there was nothing she could do to stop them. Clutching the blankets close to her, Laura curled into a ball on the mattress, trying to cry as silently as she could.

However, as in her dream, it was Connor who came to see her, destroying her hope to not disturb anyone.

"Laura, love, what's the matter? I heard a shout…" She could barely make out his face in the darkness of the room, and she choked back a sob at his concerned filled voice.

"N-nothing. I'm f-f-fine." She inwardly cursed herself for not being able to steady her voice.

He moved to the side of the bed, a small sad smile on his face as he gently pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Nay, ye're not fine." He softly rubbed out the tears on her cheeks with his thumb, holding her cheek in the palm of his hand. "What's on yer mind?"

She started crying harder, wishing that things would be able to work out. "I... I just have bad nightmares. Of all sorts of things. This time was worse than usual." She gulped in some fresh air, her stomach tying itself in knots, leaving her feeling queasy as she continued to cry. Connor pulled her towards him, whispering soothing words in her ears as he rubbed circles on her back. Finally, the tears abated, but Laura wouldn't move away from the solid figure that was her anchor. "S-sorry..." She whispered into his shoulder.

She felt rather than saw him shake his head. "Ye don't need ta be. Are ye feelin' a bit better now?"

"Y-yeah. A bit..." She smiled weakly. "Y-you should go back to bed. Get some sleep without me interrupting again." Her voice was getting more steady as she calmed herself down.

"Are ye sure? It'd be no trouble fer me ta stay here if ye want me to..." His offer, though tentative, was relieving to hear. She shook her head anyway.

"No, that's fine. I... don't want to be a hassle." She slowly let go of his shoulders, aching from the lack of contact.

"T'wouldn't be a hassle love. In fact, if ye think about it, it'd be easier fer me ta stay here rather than head all the way back over ta my bed." He smiled softly down at her, and she grinned a little in return.

"I… guess you have a point." She moved over slightly to give him room to lay beside her. _How did you know?_ She rested her head against his shoulder while he relaxed.

"Murphy used ta have terrible nightmares that scared the fuck out of him when he was younger. He'd be too scared ta even leave his bed. Good thing we shared a room, otherwise he'd've been up fer the whole night." He answered her unasked question. "I figure that if yers are anything like his – which they probably are – then ye don't actually want me ta leave, do ye?" She shook her head violently, and he gently pet her hair. "Alright then love, get some rest. I'll stay here as long as ye need me."


	9. IX: Won't Eat Till We're Hungry

A/N: I couldn't resist putting some Flogging Molly in here. (Watch out, I'll include something weird sometime soon, just to see who's actually reading the songs I post.) I recently went out and bought their new cd, Float, and it's brilliant. Plus, it kinda suits the subject matter.

ALSO! Some major and heartfelt thanks to my wonderful amazing Betas, who put up with too much shit from me. Isabella Knight and Goddess Laughs, I owe you guys one! Thank you so much for all your help, with out you, this story would be a lot more crap filled.

"_There's a breeze that's blowin' in from the land  
Instead of salt air all we breathe in is sand  
Crippled the cloud that once brought the rain  
Good job now we'll never see our coasts again_

_But those of us, those of us  
Us of lesser gods  
Won't eat till we're hungry  
Won't drink till we're parched  
But those of us, those of us  
Who forget where we're from  
Create now this hell where no devil could spawn  
Take me back, take me back  
To the way life used to be"_

**~Flogging Molly – Us of Lesser Gods~**

Laura woke slowly, meeting the morning with a groggy mind, a curious feeling of peace enveloping her, and a weight around her hips. Blinking hard against defiant sleep-bleary eyes, she tried to process where she was, and more importantly, who was with her. Laura couldn't recall having a beer or anything even remotely alcoholic last night, so she couldn't figure out why she felt this out of things, especially since the usual hangover that accompanied her any morning after was notably absent. And she didn't remember how she got to be in bed with someone – then she remembered the nightmare, one of thousands she had experienced in her life and she shuddered. The figure behind her shifted against her sudden movement and she was instantly drawn closer to them, now clearly aware that it was a man as she was pressed up against his body. She heard the whisper against her ear as he spoke to her, the sound soothing and familiar though spoken in a flowing language that she couldn't understand.

_That narrows things down a bit. It has to be either Connor or Murphy. I hope it's not Murphy again_… She winced at the thought. After one night of drinking a bit too much at the bar on her twenty-fifth birthday, Laura and Murphy had passed out together on the couch – much to Connor's amusement. The next morning had been full of awkward silences and embarrassed half-glances as they both tried to figure out whether or not anything had happened between the two of them the night before. Connor had spent the morning in the kitchen with his coffee, snickering, and refused to help them out. Eventually they came to the mutual conclusion that they had just fallen asleep together on the couch, and Laura fled the apartment, cheeks flaming. To this day she still couldn't think of it without being mortified. Connor had just laughed at the two of them, though she had thought she'd heard him shout as she stood half-way out the door – likely from a surprise attack from his twin. Murphy didn't like being the butt of jokes; and given the crash and the string of amused curse words that followed that shout, she guessed that were involved in yet another wrestling match.

The smile from that happy recollection quickly fell from her lips. That was the last time she had seen them before they had disappeared with barely a goodbye, only to reappear, unannounced, nearly a half a year later. She had tried to get an explanation from either of them, but they never spoke a word about it. After a month and a half, she had given up trying. But she hadn't forgotten what those six months had felt like for her. For the first little while after they return from wherever they had gone, Laura tried not to expect that she would find the next day that the twins had gotten up and left again without a moment's notice. _I don't think I've actually gotten over that… _She mused bitterly.

Despite her unhappy reminiscence, it was oddly comforting to be laying here beside him, whichever of the twins it happened to be. Laura rolled slightly to try to see anything distinctive of her bed fellow, like the curve of a cheek or the glimpse of a tattooed hand. As she twisted though, a familiar tightness and pain accompanied her movement and she gasped in shock. In reaction to the sound, the man's grip tightened around her, still gentle as he held her, making her move back to a more comfortable position regardless of her wishes. Laura sighed, a good natured smile gracing her lips. _He's even trying to protect me while he's asleep._ She didn't know whether this was cute or annoying.

She tried to see one of the man's hands; however, they were both hidden under the blankets that were pinned snugly against their intertwined bodies. One hand rested on her right hip, the other holding above her stomach, both far out of reach. She sighed. _Well, there goes that idea._ _Nothing to do but wait I guess._ She relaxed back into the hold, enjoying the warmth he was creating as she tried to piece together the events of the previous night. Laura searched her memory, straining to remember what had happened after she had woken up. _See, this is what happens when you try to repress stuff. It's not natural._ If she could, Laura would have glared at her inner voice for being completely un-helpful.

She winced as the hand above her stomach compressed against half-developed bruises hiding beneath the surface of her skin, pulling her closer to the other form on the bed. She tried to squirm away, only to find the grip tighten further, making her bite her lip against a yelp of pain. _This wouldn't hurt if there weren't so many fucking bruises. _She closed her eyes, aware of the tears forming behind her closed lids. Letting out the breath she hadn't known she was holding, she relaxed into the grip, allowing herself to be brought closer to the man on the bed and the pain abate enough to allow her to think – she remembered now! Connor had been the one to come in when she had awoke screaming, worried about how she was, and had offered to stay with her the night. _Weird, last time this happened, he wasn't here in the morning. What changed?_

Her curiosity was cut short; she could feel Connor stirring behind her, easing his hold on her. After a few muffled grumbles and groggy curse words, she giggled, alerting him to the fact that she was already awake.

"M-mornin' Laura." Connor half yawned, his words slurring together.

She smiled, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "Good morning Connor." There was a shared yawn between them that was interrupted by Connor's voice. The language wasn't English but the tone was unmistakable.

"What's the matter?" Laura asked.

"I can't feel my fuckin' arm." He sounded embarrassed and somewhat annoyed.

"Would it happen to be the one I'm laying on by any chance?"

He chuckled. "Aye."

She grinned again, and moved away from the mattress so he could extract his arm. "Better?"

He breathed his relief, repositioning his arm against her back. "Much." Neither spoke for another few moments. He shifted against her, his hand colliding with a bruise and she cringed. Connor heard her pained sound and felt guilty. "Here, roll over so I can see ye." He directed gruffly, gently pulling at her hip with his right hand. Gingerly, she complied, body protesting the movement.

"Ye alright?" His eyes were searching her face for an answer, and she nodded slightly. That seemed to be enough to ease most of his concern. "How did ye sleep?"

"Better. A lot better. Thank you… for staying." She smiled at him, yawn coming a few moments later, unbidden. _I haven't slept that well since before Emily._

"Yer welcome, but, if ye don't mind me askin', who's Emily?" Connor regarded her with a confused expression.

Laura blinked, then her eyes widened in shock that she quickly tried to cover, moving away slightly in reflex. "Uh, who?"

Connor raised an eyebrow at her bizarre behaviour. "Ye just said that ye haven't slept that well since Emily. Who's Emily?"

She tried to avoid his eyes. "I, er-"

"If ye don't want ta talk about her Laura, I won't make ye. I was jus' curious." He smiled softly at her.

"No, I suppose I might as well tell you." She shrugged. "I mean, you are putting up with me living in your house. I don't need to be acting all hormonal at you or anything really."

He laughed. "I'm serious Laura, t'isn't a problem if ye don't want ta talk about her – jus' didn't picture ye as one ta be battin' fer the other team." He winked at her.

"What?" She looked at him confused for a moment until what he said was processed. "No! Oh, no no no no! It's not like that at all!" She covered her face with her hands, hoping to disguise her bright red cheeks.

Connor laughed again at her embarrassment. "Relax Laura, I'm just teasin' ye."

That did nothing to help her blush. Despite his teasing, she felt the need to explain. "No, Emily… she was just a friend of mine a while ago."

"What happened?" He absentmindedly ran his fingers along her hip.

"She and I…" Laura paused, reconsidering what she was going to say, brain feeling rather muddled. "We… She moved away when I was twelve. We used to be very close friends. When her family moved, I… I don't even know where to, and I never got to see her again. She didn't leave any contact information, just up and left, didn't even say goodbye."

"That's a shame." Connor said, watching her eyes as he drew delicate patterns against her skin.

"Should… we get up?" She asked, feeling him shift as he looked over at the small clock that sat on the night table. He made an agreeable sound. "We could. But it's early still, so, it's just ta ye."

"Why, what time is it?" She tried to get a look, but winced hands instinctively moving to protect the injuries she had unwittingly agravated. Connor looked to her, frowning.

"Are ye alright there love?" His hand hovered over hers, "yer lookin' a little pale."

"I'm fine," she reassured him with a weak smile. "I just have to remember to not try that again."

He chuckled. "Alright. Ye might want ta be thinkin' of more rest in that case. It's only half-seven in the mornin'."

"What? That's so early. I never get up at this time unless it's for work." On cue, she yawned again.

"That's why I suggested sleep Laura." Connor grinned at her, stroking her cheek gently with his knuckles. She blushed, ducking her head. Before she obeyed Connor and let her eyes drift closed, she could swear that she felt Connor softly kiss the top of her head.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

With Laura, it was rare to have any kind of heart to heart. She didn't seem to like to talk. _What a fuckin' weird woman. Don't they all love to talk your ears off?_ Connor looked at her form nestled against his body, moulding itself to him, and he smiled slightly, flicking at her messy hair. She was just so small against the oversized shirt she was wearing and it made her seem so delicate. He knew she could take care of herself, seen it time and time again. _But just because she can, does that mean she has to? Does it all have to rest on her alone?_

Connor's eyes opened a little further in shock. _Since when have I been thinkin' that way about __**Laura**__?_ Even as he tried to clear his mind, he found his eyes straying down her figure, taking in the curves he had never noticed before. He'd like to touch those curves, kiss them, run his mouth over…

He violently took his thoughts away from that dangerous territory, mentally chastising himself as he looked up at the roof. It just didn't make any sense. He had known her for years and he had always seen her as a friend, someone to drink with on pick on. He had never once before thought of her like **that**. Echoing to him came the question he didn't even dare to ask in his head – why now?

Thoughts beating themselves against the inside of his mind, Connor tried to move away from Laura, to find himself some peace in distance, only to find that she reached out to hold him to her. Connor looked at the small, narrow palms with thin fingers that stretched to find purchase against him. _Her knuckles are scraped up. Why didn't I see that before?_ A keen sense of failure struck him for the third time that morning.

Insistent hands grabbed his arms, drawing him closer to her. Surprised out of his train of thought, he lay still, watching the sleeping woman with new interest. _Well. That's new too… _With a little smug grin that came from being wanted, Connor settled back into place, drawing Laura closer to him. _I suppose if there's no escaping it, might as well see where this takes me. Shouldn't be so bad… after all, it's Laura. She'll understand._

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Much later, Connor awoke to the pleasant smells of something cooking in the kitchen. With a groan, he disentangled himself from the still slumbering Laura. He risked a look down at her, smiling when he found her at peace, brown hair dark against her lightly tanned skin. _She's rather pale for a half Spic._

Glancing over at the clock, he read quarter to twelve, and wondered vaguely why his brother had let him sleep so late.

_Maybe I should go ask him._ With one last look at Laura, Connor got up, stretching as he walked to the door and left the room. Walking down the hall, he moved into the room he shared with his brother, rooting around for something to wear. Seconds later, he managed to find a pair of blue jeans and pulled them on, doing up the belt. Once suitably dressed, Connor walked into the kitchen, grinning as he saw his brother staring at the fry pan watching the bacon sizzle.

"Mornin'." Murphy said, still intent on cooking the meat in front of him.

Connor smiled at his brothers' focus and got right to the point. "What's fer breakfast?"

"Well, this is fer me, but if ye want some I went out and bought rashers an' eggs. There might even be some bread." Murphy gestured to the fridge.

"Aren't ye on top of things today. Coffee's made?" Connor reached around Murphy to open a cupboard.

"Aye the fuckin' coffee's made." Murphy rolled his eyes, and jumped back when fat from the pan splattered out and hit his hand. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!"

"Lords' fuckin' name." Connor replied automatically, filling his mug. "Want a plate fer that?"

"Aye. Ta." Murphy reached out without looking and Connor placed a small round plate in his twin's hand.

"How did things go with Da yesterday?" Connor asked, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee and grimacing into the mug. They really needed a new coffee maker.

Murphy sighed. "As well as can be expected." He grabbed cutlery from the drawer beside the sink, then sat at the table.

"He was jus' as mad as we were then?" Connor swirled the black drink around in the grey mug thoughtfully.

"Even more so." Murphy shrugged, "he wanted ta talk about it more today. Said he's not goin' ta let us do this on our own."

Connor lifted an eyebrow, still focussed on his defiant beverage as though he could warm it by sheer willpower. "That's unusual."

Murphy shrugged, turning his full attention to devouring the near quarter pound of bacon he had fried up. "D'ye know what this needs?" He asked abruptly, changing the subject.

Connor glanced up his brother, eyebrows raised.

Murphy got up and smiled as he headed to the refrigerator. "Maple syrup."

Connor coughed through the drink he had been taking. "Ye're tryin' ta put it on everythin' now. There's somethin' wrong with ye Murph."

"It tastes good!" Murphy defended, pouring a liberal quantity over his bacon and on his plate.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Ye hafta eat it, that's all I'm sayin'."

Murphy pointed at Connor with his fork to emphasize his point. "An' I always do, so what are ye complainin' for?"

Connor just grinned.

"It's not like I'm askin' ye why ye drink yer coffee fuckin' black." Murphy continued in between bites.

Connor looked at his mug. "What's wrong with black? T'is stronger this way."

"Ye'd like yer coffee if it were fermentin' fer fifteen fuckin' years. T'isn't whiskey brother."

"Yer a fuckin' idiot Murphy." Connor opened the refrigerator door, then closed it again in disgust. "Ye only got rashers and fuckin' eggs?"

"Yea." Murphy took a drink from his coffee. "What's wrong wit' that?"

"I fuckin' hate eggs fer one ye bastard, an' there's somethin' ta be said fer a bit of variety every now an' then Murph." He leant against the counter and put his mug down in the sink.

"Oh, go fuck yerself. Ye don't hate eggs." Murphy put the last few bites from his breakfast into his mouth and stood up.

Connor crossed his arms. "I do when there's nothin' but fuckin' rashers ta go with them."

"But there's more than jus' rashers." Murphy smiled, dropping his plate into the sink beside his brother's mug. "There's rashers and maple syrup."

Connor smacked Murphy's head. "Ye idiot."

"Fucker." Murphy returned the clatter, and the brawl was on. Arms flailed as the twins struggled against each other for the upper hand. Head locks and punches were punctuated by breathless insults in a minimum of five different languages, the banter filling the small kitchen. Finally, Connor knocked Murphy's legs out from under him, sending his brother tumbling to the ground with a crash, but not before Murphy managed to grab Connor's shoulders, dragging the lighter-haired man down with him. The brawl quickly morphed into a wrestling match, with little concern paid to the furniture that was unfortunate enough to get in their way.

In the other room, Laura was shaken fully from the hold of sleep, and she looked for the cause of the noise, feeling confused and quite alone. Within a few moments however, she heard the ruckus in the kitchen and sighed. _They're at it again. Might as well see who's winning this time._

Getting up, she remade the bed out of habit, and left the room, quickly heading to the kitchen door. With a smile, she leant against the door frame, watching as the twins wrestled on the floor. At first Connor had Murphy pinned with his legs and arm, but suddenly Murphy twisted, and Connor was flipped under his brother. The fight for dominance continued, with Murphy struggling to hold his brother in a lock, and Connor struggling to pin Murphy. It was pretty much the same every time, and Laura was used to it by now. Eventually, one of them would admit defeat, with no hard feelings. This time it looked like the fight was going to take a while.

After a great deal of squirming, Connor finally got free again and pinned Murphy against the floor and held him there with his knee. With no way out, Murphy conceded, "Fine, ye fuckin' win. Now lemme up."

In an instant, Connor was on his feet, offering a hand to his brother, who accepted it with no shame. "I could really go fer a smoke right now." Murphy said as Connor pulled out a half empty box of cigarettes. The two of them looked up at the same time to see Laura in the doorway, an amused smile on her face.

"Good mornin' Laura." Connor said cheerfully, and she rolled her eyes at him. "What?" He asked, perplexed.

Grabbing the box of smokes from Connor, Murphy moved past Laura to get to the fire escape, ruffling her hair on the way by.

"Hey! Murphy!" She glared after him as he laughed at her. With a grumble, she ran her fingers through her now messy hair, trying to regain some semblance of order.

"How're ye feelin' Laura?" Connor asked, putting his empty mug from the counter into the sink.

"A bit sore." She admitted.

He nodded, a sympathetic smile on his lips. "Are ye plannin' on doin' anythin' today?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I had a couple o'ideas of how ta spend the day, if ye're interested." He shrugged. "But if ye're busy, then we could do it some other time."

"What kind of ideas?"

He would have to be blind not to see that she was suspicious, and recalling the sorts of practical jokes that he had pulled on her with help from his brother, he could understand her apprehension. "Oh, just a few errands. I could use a hand with a couple o'things."

She crossed her arms. "Like?"

He smiled charmingly at her. "Well, ye'll just have ta wait an' see, now won't ye love?" He followed Murphy out to the fire escape, leaving Laura standing alone in the kitchen with her thoughts.

She rubbed her eyes with a hand before turning to go to her room to get changed. _Ugh. Irishmen._

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"What did ye say ta her?" Murphy asked as Connor walked out onto the fire escape, handing his brother the old, worn lighter.

"Jus' tha' I had a few errands that I'd like her ta come and help me with." Connor took a puff from his cigarette.

Murphy took a drag, and looked at Connor with disbelief. "An' she didn't ask?"

"Oh, aye, she asked. I jus' didn't tell her, or give her the chance ta press it." Connor pocketed the remains of the cigarette pack. Murphy half-heartedly swatted him.

They were silent for a few minutes, both enjoying their smoke. "Weird." Murphy remarked suddenly, "she doesn't usually let that sort o'thin' go."

"I know."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Murphy had ventured to the market across town for a pack of smokes and Laura was nowhere to be found, leaving Connor a rare moment to himself. With a sigh, he sat down on the couch and flipped on the news, hoping to see any information that they could use.

Surprisingly, he arrived on the channel in the middle of a statement from the South Boston Police Department. Curious, Connor turned up the volume while the police chief spoke at a podium surrounded by a sea of reporters.

"…And we can confirm, despite rumours, that that the recent attack on a 56 year old alleged weapons runner was in no way related to the 'Saints of South Boston' killings. A full inquiry is underway at the moment, and all possible leads are being explored. At this time, we have no further comments on the investigation." The aging chief left amid a flurry of reporters' questions, and Connor noticed something odd. _Where's Smecker?_

A female reporter took the screen a moment later. "The victim reportedly had connections with various black market associations, as well as possible connections with several different crime syndicates within the Boston area, making him a person of interest for the South Boston PD. Sources…" The door opened to the guest bedroom, the sudden appearance of Laura made him switch off the television hastily. She stepped into a shaft of sunlight, the golden rays highlighting the slight reddish blond tint in her dark hair, and the light tan of her skin. Again, Connor was hit by a strange anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach coupled with an unwelcome surge of adrenaline. He ignored it, standing up from the couch and stretching deliberately.

"Ye finally ready?" Connor nodded over to her, an amused grin on his face.

Laura rolled her eyes. "I wasn't that long." She pulled at her shirt, walking over to where he stood.

"I had time ta do the dishes while I waited. Ye were that fuckin' long." He ruffled her hair, which she protested, and headed to the door. Laura shook her head, falling into step behind him.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"So, where **are** we going?" Laura finally asked, growing tired of following after Connor. He was walking at a faster pace than she liked to, and she was struggling to keep up. They were surrounded by alleys and side roads without a single street sign in sight. The pale yellow of the sun could be seen through the wispy grey clouds overhead, a section of blue sky growing to the south east. Around them dark brown brick buildings rose, with wrought iron skeletons clinging to their sides – fire escapes, window boxes, and metal bars.

Connor didn't look at her. "Ye'll see." She could hear the smile in his voice, and she glared at the back of his head.

"Connor…" she warned.

"Yes dear?" He asked innocently, unfazed by her tone.

She in turn tried to ignore the way the endearment fell off his tongue. Only someone with an Irish accent could make that simple word sound that good. "It's been a half hour, and I swear we've been going in circles. Either you're lost, or you don't know where you're going. Which is the same fucking thing!"

This time he did chuckle, "We're not lost, an' we're not walkin' in circles. Have some faith in me now Laura. We're not far yet."

"We better not be…" She muttered darkly to herself, feeling slightly better for his assurances though she'd never admit it.

Truth be told, Connor had been walking them not in circles, but on a round-about route, quite deliberately. In a half hour, they had reached the half-way point to Laura's apartment and she didn't have a clue. _Now I jus' have to circle around from the north a wee bit…_ He picked up the pace slightly, much to Laura exasperation. She followed regardless.

A little while later Laura spoke up again, gently this time, tired of the heavy silence between them. "Exactly what sort of errands were you wanting to do Connor?"

He shrugged, sending a smile back to her. "Jus' a few little things, here an' there. Figured that ye'd be best ta come an' help out a bit."

"Couldn't Murphy have-"

"No, no love," Connor cut her off before she could finish, "he's bollocks for errands."

"And you aren't?" She asked quizzically.

He shrugged again. "I know tha' they need ta be done. Murphy's more for action, talkin' with people. I prefer ta plan."

Laura rolled her eyes. "I kinda noticed that. I'm not blind Connor, I have known you guys for three years now."

"Aye, it's been a while." He nodded. "Tell me Laura, why is it ye stick around?"

"What?" She looked left and right, unsure of how to answer this sudden question. Connor waited, keenly aware of her discomfort as he carefully walked around a pile of refuse in the alley.

Laura found herself stammering. "Well, I mean, you guys are great to be around. You're good friends, and… I miss you when you're not around." She half tripped over an exposed chair leg and grabbed onto the sleeves of Connor's coat. He stood still while she stood up again; he didn't have to turn around to know that she was embarrassed.

"Should've warned ye 'bout that."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"This neighbourhood looks familiar…" Laura mused aloud.

Connor didn't reply, looking ahead at the apartment where she had been living only four short days ago. _Monday morning… what do I usually do on Monday mornings?_ He shook his head. Between the mission and avoiding the police, Connor found he didn't have much time for any relaxing, no real time for enjoying with friends, or even with Murphy. As much as possible both he and his brother tried to look normal for appearances sake, but it was tiring. _I wish I could just tell her. It'd all be so much simpler. _With a sigh, he pushed away the impossible notion.

"Connor, what the fuck?" Her anger was bordering on panic.

He had expected this. Connor turned to face her, expression solemn. "Ye need ta face this."

"Like hell I do! It's over and done with. As soon as the police catch who did this-"

"That's goin' ta take a long time, if it happens at all." He interjected calmly. "Ye know that."

"Doesn't matter. I can…" Laura trailed off.

Connor crossed his arms. "You can what? Jus' wait till they go away? Play sweet and innocent so they don't hurt ye? Come on Laura, ye're not that stupid. Ye know that won't stop them. It didn't before."

"And what the fuck should I do then Connor?! Just take over the job of the police? Be like these psychotic 'Saints' and take justice into my own two hands?!" Laura threw up her arms in frustration. She took a deep breath and continued, "No, no that's just not how things work Connor. The police, it's their job to do this. They catch the bad guys so the bad guys can't catch us. That's how things are done."

Ignoring the knot twisting in the pit of his stomach, he shrugged. "Wasn't suggestin' any different Laura." He said, just a little bit more bitterly than he intended to. "I jus' think that ye should deal with the problem ye have. Ye need ta see, in plain daylight, what was done ta ye."

An awkward silence followed his statement. Connor's cool expression was unnerving; Laura tried to find something else to focus on. She licked her lips out of nervous habit. "That's why you took me here?" She asked softly, her voice wavering slightly. He could see the tremors running through her hands.

"Aye. That is why I took ye here." Neither of them spoke for a moment, a silence of a million years stretching between them in just a second. Connor sighed. "Look, Laura, this avoidin' ye're doin'… ye're jus' goin' ta regret it. Ye have got ta go in ta that apartment and deal with this or else yer goin' ta be runnin' scared fer the rest of yer life. Jus'… trust me." He implored her.

Laura wouldn't look at him."I hate you." She whispered after a couple of seconds, and Connor grinned at her.

"Ye don't. Ye jus' know I'm right."

"Yeah. And I hate that too." She brushed past him and stormed up the stairs. Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose and followed her up.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The fluorescent police tape was still in place across the doorway to her old home, Laura ducked underneath it without hesitating. Connor stood in the doorway, face solemn, watching her movements through the chaos. A strained quiet fell over the room, broken only by the sounds of traffic from outside. Laura walked slowly through the wreckage that was once her life, visibly curling up in on herself as she moved.

Once she turned back to look at Connor. He gave her a subtle nod of support, but didn't speak. She quickly went back to walking through the room, shards of glass crunching beneath the soles of her shoes, paper crackling as she moved over the pieces of books that littered the floor. She gently reached out and touched the wall, dragging her hand across it as she looked into the kitchen, then quickly looked out again.

"I wasn't able to get all the blood out." She voiced faintly. Connor still didn't speak, and Laura moved on.

For a few moments, she disappeared out of sight as she entered the hall, looking at the bathroom and her bedroom in turn. Slowly, she came back, taking in every part of the scene in detail as if to engrain it in her memory – every piece of her furniture that had been upturned, the smashed in screen of her tv, the stereo that had been ripped apart, the shattered glass from the table and mirror that used to be in the hall, the words written across the wall, the paint that had been thrown liberally across the floor and roof, the curtains on the floor, half burnt, and the light fixture that had been literally been ripped out of the roof.

Laura stopped, and looked directly at Connor, without speaking. After a long tense moment she finally said, "I don't think my insurance is going to cover this."

Connor laughed.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"So what d'ye want ta do now?" Connor was sitting on her balcony, a cigarette held limply between his index and middle finger while Laura sat on the stairs to the fire escape below him.

She looked up at him, disbelief clearly on her face. "This was all you had planned for today?"

"Aye, pretty much."

"Connor!" She rolled her eyes and pushed his leg. "You're impossible."

He wagged a finger at her. "I'll have ta disagree with ye on that one Laura. I'm clearly quite possible."

"Oh go fuck yourself Conn." She smiled, feeling better than she had in a long time. She wasn't going to admit it, but he had been right about how she needed to face her past. Her stomach growled suddenly, and she hoped that he hadn't heard it. "I'm feeling a bit hungry." She voiced tentatively.

"Did ye eat before we left?" He asked as he flicked the ashes off of the end of his cigarette.

Laura blushed a deep shade of red. "Uh, no…"

He sighed. "No wonder yer fuckin' hungry then y'idiot. Come on."

As they were walking back towards the twin's apartment, the buildings grew older and older. Up ahead Laura could see a sort of clearing, a square of buildings around one smaller central building.

"Connor!" She nearly bounced as she grabbed his arm. He sent her an amused smile. "Can we go there please? It's been ages since I've been to Quincy Market!"

Connor looked apprehensively at the Market. The bricked roads were milling with people. "I don't know. I don't really like crowds."

"But Connor, come on! It's not that bad, really! Please?" Laura was obviously not above begging.

He gave her a stern look. "Laura. It's a waste o'money."

"What are you, my father? It's my fucking money to waste!" She quickly grew angry.

"Don't give me tha' shite like you don't care. Ye're not thinkin' ahead-"

"Any more than you are!" She interjected hotly. Connor's glare become downright toxic, but Laura held her ground.

Finally it was Connor who was contrite and backed down, continuing in a more moderate tone. "Which is why ye shouldn't be blowin' yer money like me an' Murph do."

"C-Connor… I wasn't suggesting-"

He waved her apology off. "Nah, it was clear what ye were suggestin', an' yer right." _How the fuck does she manage to hit the nail on the head every time?_ He rubbed his temple in growing frustration. There were no police around, which was a slight condolence. "Ye really want ta go ta this market then?"

She nodded, a hesitant smile on her lips.

_Looks like there's nothing to be done._ Connor sighed unhappily, "Fine. But I don' like it." He swore that if her smile got any wider her face would split in twain – but he didn't really mind. For some reason her being happy and looking less frightened made him feel like he had accomplished something important. Yet at the very same time, he had a terribly bad feeling about this.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Connor had to come to the conclusion that Laura was completely clueless. That was the only explanation for how she could sit across from him, a wanted criminal, and talk about store-front displays while eating some sort of lobster panini. He shook his head in disbelief, taking a sip of his ice tea, cracking a smile. She had been surprised that he drank the stuff, and surprised that he didn't want anything to eat.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Laura asked tentatively, eerily following his train of thought.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not fuckin' hungry. How many times d'I have ta say it?"

She giggled. "Until I believe it, which is nigh near never."

He recognized after a moment that she was quoting him. "Oh very funny."

"But really Connor," She continued through her laughter. "I swear you're anorexic – you **never** eat!"

He nearly spat out his drink. "For fuck's sake Laura! That's pure shite an' ye know it!" Laura's face was red with mirth. Connor mocked glared at her. "Alright, yes ye're very funny."

"Your face!" She managed to gasp out, before breaking into another peal of laughter.

He picked up his iced tea can. "Oh shut it." He grumbled half-heartedly, looking around the crowd again. He had been doing it unconsciously every five or ten minutes since they had sat down inside the Market building. The center of the building was where the public seating was, on two floors, with tables high and low and numerous chairs. There were admittedly less chairs than needed, but still more chairs than tables.

And the room was packed. There was no clear access to an exit, nor were they sitting in a particularly advantageous location. He couldn't be sure who was watching.

"Are you alright?" Connor was dragged back to the conversation as Laura looked at him, genuinely concerned.

At first he was going to lie, say that he was fine. Silently, he shook his head. "Nah, I'm not alright Laura. Can we leave now?"

She nodded instantly, standing up. "Of course."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Only once they were outside of the building did Connor start breathing a bit easier.

"I'm really sorry Connor, I didn't mean to drag you somewhere you didn't want to go."

Connor only held back a tart retort because she sounded so ashamed.

"Nah, that's alright Laura. I'll get used ta it some time." _Like when I'm not on the run. _"Until then, s'good practise aye?" _Practise on how to blend in while sittin' in plain sight. Fuck!_

Laura nodded. "Can… we go back to your apartment? It's kind of cold out here."

They both knew it was a pathetic excuse, but Connor nodded, and nothing further was spoken on the topic. In fact, nothing much was spoken about in general until after Murphy joined them back at the apartment, several hours after they returned 'home'.

"Did somebody fuckin' die?" Murphy asked loudly as he stood in the doorway.

Laura looked up from the television program, but quickly glanced away again, looking upset. Connor at least had an excuse for not replying – he was in the kitchen, moving things about, occasionally crashing something down and generally making Laura jump.

Murphy rolled his eyes at the antics of the apartment's two occupants and headed into the kitchen. In his best impression of an American accent he said, "Honey, I'm hoooome."

"Fuck off Murphy." Connor grumbled back, searching through the drawers for cooking utensils. On the stove sat a pot of boiling water.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Murphy asked, leaning against the doorframe with a small smile on his face.

"Making dinner." Connor pulled out an over-sized spatula and pointed at his twin menacingly. "Now fuck off if ye're not goin' ta be any use."

Murphy resisted the urge to snicker, sitting down at the table. "Have a rough day there Conn?"

"Aye, I fuckin' did, an' ye're not makin' it any better." Connor angrily flipped the knob on the stove to maximum, staring moodily at the pot. Murphy didn't say anything, expression solemn. Connor looked up, directly at his twin, "I need a fuckin' smoke."

Murphy cracked a smile. "Now **that** I can help ye with."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"The fuck if I know! Ye can fuckin' talk ta her." Connor's voice drifted over to the couch where Laura was sitting. Curious, she sat up a little bit, trying to hear more. _Eavesdropper now are you?_ She told her inner voice to shut up.

Murphy said something that Laura couldn't quite catch, and Connor replied, "No! She's not my anythin'. I don't give a fuck about 'past experiences' or any o'tha' shite. It's over, it's done, end o' fuckin' story."

"She's not goin' ta like that." Murphy advised, and Laura turned the television down so she could hear a bit better, anxieties gnawing at her as she listened.

Connor's response was delayed, and Laura could imagine him taking a long draw on a cigarette. "I don't give a fuck what she likes! That girl has made my life hell fer the past little while, an' ye know it! Why the fuck should I care about her?"

"I'm just sayin'-"

"Well ye can stop sayin'. I'm done with it." A pause. Laura wished she was there so she knew what their expressions where, and who they were talking about. _It can't be about me… can it?_ "Lemme go make dinner for fucks sake." The door to fire escape opened, and she could hear Connor walking in. She rapidly changed the channel to make it look like she hadn't been listening. She smiled at him, but he only gave her a scowl as response. Quickly, she turned away.

Murphy came in next, seeming to be in about as good a mood as his brother. He flopped down on the couch beside her and gestured that he wanted the remote. Wordlessly, she handed it to him.

"Ta." He muttered, and starting flipping through channels aimlessly, finally ending on an American football game. Laura sighed, but didn't get up.

After a few minutes, she gathered enough courage to ask what was on her mind. "So, uh, who were you talking about there Murphy?"

"Huh?" He didn't look away from the game.

"I heard you and Connor talking outside," she elaborated, "who were you talking about?"

Murphy glanced over at her, mouth quirking upwards, "Don't ye know it's rude ta eavesdrop?" He joked.

"Well, I heard you guys talking, and I was just wondering…" she shrugged.

"It's not about ye, if that's what ye're wonderin'. Relax Laura, the whole world doesn't revolve around ye." The commercials came on, so he started channel surfing again.

"I don't think that it is." Her voice was both resentful and embarrassed at the same time.

Murphy rolled his eyes, half smiling at her. "Never mind Laura. T'is none of yer business what Connor and I talk about. Jus' accept that it's not about ye, an' leave the matter be, alright?"

"Fine," she whispered, and went into the kitchen. Connor was still hard at work trying to put together something edible for dinner but seemed less agitated than before. Laura stood in the doorway, unsure if she should go into the room, or go into the guest room to think. _This is the most unwelcome I've ever felt here._

"Are ye jus' goin' ta stand there?" Connor asked neutrally, finally acknowledging her presence in the doorway, still stirring the pot of sauce.

"Sorry." She muttered sullenly, and turned to leave.

He sighed, putting down what he was doing to look at her. "Laura…" He appealed to her with his eyes and she paused in the doorway. "Don't go. Come, sit, talk, do somethin'. Jus' don't go."

Laura turned back around and sat in one of the kitchen chairs. "All right." Connor went back to his sauce, seeming content with her acquiescence.

The clock on the wall was surreally loud. She watched Connor as he puttered around the kitchen humming a song under his breath that she could barely hear; subconsciously grinning at how cute he looked being domestic. Shaking herself away from dangerous territory, she asked, "What are you making?"

"Pasta an' tomato sauce; from scratch," he declared proudly.

"Yer full o'shite Connor!" Murphy's cheery voice floated in from the living room.

"Go fuck yerself Murphy!" Connor called back, grinning as he turned back to the stove, humming a piece of a theme song to an old western. Laura couldn't help it. She laughed.

Connor turned to look at her, mock affronted. "Oi! Are ye makin' fun of my singing?"

She giggled. "Nope. Wouldn't even dream of it Connor."

He crossed his arms. "Laura. Now, really?"

"Really!" She defended, trying to stifle her mirth. "I'm not laughing at your singing!"

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Late at night, long after Laura had been guided to bed (despite her sleepy protests that she was still wide awake), Connor sat across from Murphy at the kitchen table.

"What did Da have ta say?" Connor's anticipation was palatable.

Murphy raised his beer, "Said that ye should've been there."

"Fuck off Murphy." Connor glared. "What did he have ta say?"

Murphy almost laughed, but sobered quickly. "We've got a job fer tomorrow."

Connor leant back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face, "Finally."


	10. X: Won't Drink Till We're Parched

A/N: Been a while, hasn't it? A big appology to everyone, it's been rather hectic lately - between Christmas, misplacing this chapter, getting horribly sick and loosing all creative process, and most recently FanFiction refusing to let me post anything, it's been a struggle to say the least. Here it is, and hopefully eleven will soon be on its way up too, and maybe I'll even figure out how to finish twelve. And though I told myself that I wasn't going to fuss about this, reviews really really do help. So, if you have the time, just lemme know what you think. Thanks!

_"A whisper's now sayin'  
What words used to speak  
Starve must the child, hungry sex on tv  
For no act of contrition  
Will pardon the soul  
The damage now glistens  
See how it glows_

_But those of us, those of us  
Us of lesser gods  
Won't eat till we're hungry  
Won't drink till we're parched  
But those of us, those of us  
Who forget where we're from  
Create now this hell where no devil could spawn  
Take me back, take me back  
To the way life used to be"_

_**~Flogging Molly – Us of Lesser Gods~**_

Laura was alone. Alone amid a barren landscape of cracked grey flagstones which led far away into nowhere. The gnarled branches of ancient trees were dark against the sombre gloom. There was somewhere she needed to go, quickly, now… There was no time in a place like this. She'd walk forward a few steps and not know where she was anymore or how long she had been standing there for, she didn't know if where she was going was even the right direction. The need to get there before it was too late was overwhelming, but she couldn't figure out where exactly _there_ was.

Laura looked to and fro, but could only see indistinct grey shapes in the fog. What struck her as the most frightening was the utter lack of sound, there was a blanket of stillness over her, muting her footsteps into near silence. She was struck with the deadly realization that even if she screamed, no one would hear her.

The fog was sticking to her like a clammy hand, tendrils of it reaching out to graze the exposed flesh of her shoulders, and she shuddered. Was she walking? Laura looked down at her feet and saw the dull grey dust that was thrown up with each step. The air felt so damp that she was surprised it wasn't raining.

There was a shape in the fog, looming in the distance. It looked boxy, maybe it was a building. Is this where she was to go? She paused to look at the shape, but quickly started moving again, some unfathomable anxiety drawing her on.

The flagstones stretched out all around her for miles, but there was nothing in sight to comfort her in this alien plane. No sound of birds, no conversation, just the barest hint of wind whispering by her ears. Was that a word? She couldn't catch it. Didn't she have to go somewhere? She couldn't remember. The building drew ever closer.

She tripped. Landing on uneven tiles with edges like shattered glass; the sharp pain at her knee was shocking while enveloped in so much numbing grey. Laura looked down at it, and saw a thin trail of blood making its' way down her bare leg. The short white nightdress she was wearing had gotten covered in green-grey slime and she wrinkled her nose at the mess. Carefully, she stood up, noticing for the first time how cold the stones were beneath her bare feet, and how disgusting the slime felt as it squelched between her toes. She started walking faster, dread settling over her like a sodden wool blanket.

The building up ahead was taking form, growing clear against the insubstantial backdrop. It had inky black stones mixed in with softer grey ones, making a strange pattern on the walls. Overhead a spire reached to the heavens, at the very top was a tiny weathered cross, made of a dark metal. The wind was growing stronger, whipping around the hem of Laura's dress. She pressed on, even as it buffeted her.

The doors were wooden, laced with black metal that looked like ivy. Laura traced it with a finger, the vicious wind forgotten as it faded behind her. The door creaked open beneath her hand, and she walked into the building, a warm glow enveloping her as she did.

Everything inside was clean, clear, bright. It felt safe, it felt comforting. White candles radiated golden light that bathed up to the highest arch of the roof with colour and warmth. The stained glass windows were filled with every tint and shade that the rainbow possessed, shifting and changing with the flickering candlelight as if the very window was in motion. Long wooden pews lined the way to the front of the building, there had to be fifty or more. The silence here was relaxing. In the distance, Laura could almost hear the whispers of devotion, the toll of the bell, and the voices raised high in praise. A fragment of a song floated to her through the air, and she watched as it spun a web of visible sound around her. She reached out to touch it, and it disappeared from whence it came, leaving behind a trail of sparkling lights and tiny crystal gems that hung still in the air. _How beautiful…_

There were heavy footsteps against the smooth floor coming from behind her. Laura looked over, somehow not afraid of the two men in black ski masks who walked toward her. She stood motionless, even though her mind begged her legs to let her turn and run. Then they were standing over her, silent, watching. One of them touched her face, gently, his hand surprisingly smooth against her skin. She looked at their faces again, and found Connor and Murphy staring back at her instead of the men with the masks. Murphy grinned impishly, and Connor winked, drawing his hand away from her cheek.

Loud hammering on the door and angry voices broke the serene moment. Connor pushed her behind him with an arm, and pulled out a gun from some hidden place. Murphy picked up where Connor left off, grabbing her arm and guiding her to a side door. He pushed her toward it, actions frantic, and eyes wide. Wordlessly, he moved back to stand beside his brother as the men came in through the door, like a swarm of insects over a corpse. They grew out of the very floor boards, coming to life from nothing, growing up like trees. Laura watched, eyes wide and heart filled with dread as the twins she knew stood calmly, like two marble pillars, waiting. Then, as one unit, they raised dual guns and started shooting with deadly accuracy. The noise shattered the previously peaceful atmosphere, making her heart skip a beat with each shot that reverberated through the building. The glow from the candles grew brighter.

The pile of dead grew in the doorway and behind the pews, but still the men kept coming, a never ending deluge climbing over the still warm bodies to try to reach their targets. Laura pressed herself back into the doorway, wishing that the men would just stop, just go away and let Connor and Murphy be. Her head hurt, and the light, it was so bright it burned.

It was getting hotter, every second the massive room felt warmer. Laura wiped at her brow, watching as waves of heat bounced off the floor, a kaleidoscope of colour. At the far end of the building, past the twins, past the bodies mounting on the floor, even past the men who swarmed the doors, licking at the edges of the building, was a fire.

Horror shot through her, and her head snapped back around to look at Connor, then to Murphy. Neither seemed to notice the mounting blaze; or perhaps neither cared. She tried to scream, but no sound would come out of her mouth – she gaped a warning to them as she struggled to open the door behind her, trying desperately to get them to see the danger. Overhead she heard wood creaking, and the light grew steadily brighter, the crackling steadily louder. It was so fast, too fast for her to react. A giant beam came crashing down just a few feet in front of her, cutting her off from the twins. She recoiled from the burning timber, a warning scream on her lips. She wanted to warn them, but she could barely breathe from the smoke and the heat. She tried to scream to them, again and again, but no noise would come out from her cracking lips. The sounds of their guns became louder, and the flames drew closer to them. Laura felt herself being pulled out of the building, someone yelling into her ear it was for her own safety. She struggled against them, screaming that she couldn't leave them, screaming for them to hear her, but the only response she got was the ringing explosion of shots from inside the building. The flames quickly engulfed it, bringing the entire thing down in a matter of seconds, a pile of burning rubble where it had been only moments before.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

She awoke choking on a sob. Without a thought, she scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping as the sheets tried to knot themselves around her ankles. She raced the short distance out of the guest room, down the hall and into the room the twins shared, slamming the door open so hard it ricocheted off the wall nearly hitting her on the rebound. The twins stared wide-eyed at her, sitting bolt upright in their beds. They had been woken by her yells only seconds earlier. Taking in her dishevelled appearance, Murphy made to touch her, only to have her launch herself onto him.

He looked down at her awkwardly, then over at Connor, who was just as shocked as his brother. Murphy cleared his throat. "What the fuck is this about?"

She couldn't manage to talk, sobs coming out in sudden gasps. Connor looked at his twin helplessly while she clung to Murphy's chest. Laura shook her head against the confused Irishman. The only sound either of them could make out between sobs was a mantra of 'No, God no, please no'.

Connor moved towards the two of them, and suddenly she let go of Murphy and latched onto him instead, nearly knocking him to the floor. "Laura!" He cried out as he struggled to maintain balance. He looked down at her shaking body while she held tightly to him. "What happened?"

She couldn't find words to reply, barely about to breathe through her tears.

Connor gently smoothed a hand over her hair. "Shush now Laura, s'all goin' ta be okay. It'll all be alright now. We've got ye, the Saints'll protect ye." He whispered, trying to do what he could to calm her. Connor looked up at Murphy, who simply shrugged, completely at a loss for what to do. While Connor stood with Laura in his arms, a piece of a memory tugged at his mind, and he asked, "Was it another dream?"

Somehow she managed to nod yes, and he drew her closer to him. "Oh, Laura…" Connor shook his head slightly, closing his eyes. "Shush now love, t'was only a dream. Come 'ere, relax. It'll all be okay." He placed a hand on the back of her head, drawing her towards him as he whispered reassurances in her ear. Carefully, he moved them back towards his bed, slowly sitting down so not to jostle her. Gradually, her tears dried.

She looked up at Connor, and blushed at the intimacy of their embrace, even if it was one of friendship. Turning away, she saw a wane smile on Murphy's lips before he yawned. She almost smiled back at him, seeing how cute he appeared with mussed hair.

"Now then Laura, care ta tell us what that was all about then?" Connor asked softly, bringing her attention back to the fair-haired man.

She shook her head, nervously swallowing before she spoke. "I – I can't. It was… J-just… promise me. You'll be careful. Don't die – either of you! When it's too dangerous, please, just be safe. Just get out."

Connor raised a semi-alarmed eyebrow over her head, and Murphy shrugged, clearing his throat. "Laura, what d'ye mean, 'too dangerous'? Was it somethin' from yer dream?"

She shuddered against Connor. "No, I mean, yes… I don't want to..." Her voice broke. "I don't want to talk about it." She whispered, curling into a ball on his lap.

"Shush now Laura, ye don't hafta if ye don't want ta." Connor soothed and gently stroked her hair, rocking her back and forth. "Jus' calm down, alright love?"

She nodded slowly, hiccupping. As she sat in Connor's embrace, she felt her eyelids grow heavy while the panic ebbed away. Her head felt sore and body was aching. She was just so tired.

Connor noticed her exhaustion as she leant further into him. "D'ye want ta go back ta bed?" He asked softly.

"Please." She said between a yawn. He grunted his assent, and stood up with her still in his arms. Surprised by the sudden movement, her eyes shot open, grabbing at his shoulders to get a better hold. "What are you doing?"

"Takin' ye back ta the guest room." He replied uncertainly.

"No, no, please don't. I… _Idon'twanttobealone_." She rushed out in one breath, ducking her head as her cheeks reddened further. He nodded in understanding, turning around to lay her down on his bed.

"Alright. Ye can stay here for the night. How does tha' sound ta ye?"

Laura snuggled into the soft pillow. "It sounds pretty good." She whispered drowsily as he lifted the blankets over her body.

"Good." She could just hear a smile in his voice before she fell back to sleep. The twins waited a few moments to see if she was actually out before they relaxed again.

In the silence that followed, Connor looked to Murphy, his confusion mirrored on his brothers' face.

"We'll talk ta her tomorrow before we go." Murphy promised with a sigh.

Connor shook his head in disbelief. "S'fuckin' weird that she's dreamin' about shite like that."

"S'weird she's been brought inta this at all Conn." He replied somewhat remorsefully, sinking back down on his bed and shaking his head.

"Aye, I know." Connor sat beside her, gently moving a strand of hair off of her face. "All of this is fuckin' weird. S'all far too convient, y'know?"

"No." Murphy retorted impatiently, pulling his blankets overtop of him. "Tell me in the mornin'."

Connor looked at their digital clock. "It is mornin'."

"Fuck off Conn." Murphy responded, amusement belying the annoyance in his voice. He rolled over and left Connor to his thoughts.

After a few moments of debate and glances between the two beds, Connor got into bed as well, lying beside Laura. His thoughts refused to give him any peace, whirling inside of his head. _What's your story Laura, and why do you keep refusing to tell it to us?_He closed his eyes with the bittersweet knowledge that he wasn't likely to get any straight answers any time soon. The last thing he thought put a smile on his face – he was closer to the truth, closer to her opening up now than he had been any time before.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

It was early morning when Murphy stumbled out of bed, only a few hours after Laura burst in on them. He haphazardly managed to make it to the door, bruising his knee against the edge of the bed frame as he went, and staggered into the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker. He yawned widely, scratching his head and stretching at the same time. Bleary-eyed, he reached into the cabinet and pulled out two plain coffee mugs, dropping them with a clatter on the counter beside the scratched up coffee maker. With a yawn, he opened the instant coffee tin, and poured some into the machine, nearly missing entirely.

"Fuck me." Murpy half-whispered, quickly correcting his error. "I need more sleep." He groused, ill-humoredly glaring in the direction of the bedroom, where his brother still slept soundly. A splash of icy water would put an end to that. He grinned at the thought, but quickly shook his head before watching over the coffee machine again. The pervasive scent of coffee filled the air, making Connor sniff appreciatively. Murphy had left the door open to their shared room, deliberately.

Connor woke to one of his favourite smells in the world, becoming aware of the unusual warmth at his right side. Blinking his eyes into focus, he looked at Laura's sleeping face. _This isn't that bad._ Immediately after the thought drifted across his consciousness, Connor was out of bed, lying in a heap on the floor. Luckily for him, Laura seemed not to have noticed. He winced and held a hand to his likely bruised hip. "Fuck me." He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his forehead before getting up.

Murphy nodded to his twin as Connor entered the kitchen, looking preoccupied. "Mornin'. Coffee?" He asked, gesturing to the nearly full pot.

"Aye." Connor grabbed the mug off the counter and filled it, gluping the scalding liquid. "Shite!"

Murphy chuckled. "An' tha's why we drink slowly."

"Go fuck yerself." Connor grumbled, draining the mug and returning it to the counter for a refill. The first watery rays of light lit the smog lingering in the mid-August sky.

"Are ye ready?" Connor asked, looking at his brother, his face sombre, all previous aggravation gone.

"Aye. Everythin's packed up an' good ta go." Murphy said, taking another drink from his mug. "What 'bout her?" he asked, nodding at the bedroom.

"What about me?" Laura's sudden appearance made the twins jolt. Murphy cursed as he sloshed coffee over his hand. "Laura, don't sneak up like that! Ye nearly put the heart cross-wise in me!"

She blinked at his phrase. "Huh?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "Ye nearly gave us a heart attack girl."

"Oh." She smiled slightly, abashed. "Sorry."

Silence reigned in the kitchen, all of the room's inhabitants looking at the same chipped floor tile. Connor was just about to ask Laura how she slept when she cleared her throat. "So what did you guys want to tell me?"

Connor glanced to Murphy, who shrugged. After a few second, Connor spoke. "We've got a job… upstate, fer the next coupla days."

"Oh. That's… really sudden." Laura's voice wavered slightly as she replied, but her smile was still as bright. "Well, it's good you guys have work, right?" She hadn't really meant it to be a question.

"Aye, but we'll be gone fer the next coupla days. Are… ye'll be fine." His concern shone through his clipped tone.

Laura forced herself to nod past the panicked thoughts that were running circles in her brain. "Of course I will! You guys aren't going to be gone long or anything." She held her bravado in place with an iron fist, and forced a laugh. "I mean, there's nothing to worry about, right? It's not like you're going to Iraq, or going to be getting shot at or anything."

"Laura! We're not fuckin' goin' ta war." Connor exclaimed exasperatedly. "Ye really like to blow things out of proportions, don't ye?" He didn't notice her hurt expression as he ruffled her hair. "In any case, we're headin' out, and'll be back in a coupla days, like I said. Ye'll have the place ta yerself."

"Okay." She muttered toward him.

_What's the matter little girl? Afraid to be alone? Afraid of the words in the silence?_

She repressed a shudder against the nasty cackle from her inner voice. Neither of the twins noticed, too wrapped up in their preparations to leave. She followed them over to the door, finally aware of how tuned out she was when Connor waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. "Sorry, what?" She asked, shaking her head and looking up at him.

Connor sighed. "I jus' said that ye should lock the door, I've left a key here fer ye, by the tv, an' yer ta look out fer yerself-"

"Aye, don't go takin' candy from any strangers." Murphy interrupted with a cheeky grin, receiving a deadly glare from Connor.

"As I was sayin', jus' be careful, alright?" He finished, cupping her cheek so she was looking directly at him.

"U-uh huh." She stammered, and looked away as soon as she was able.

With one last nod, Connor grabbed his black duffle bag and went out the door. Murphy stayed behind for a few moments, looking at Laura. He seemed like he was going to say something, but at the last second shook his head and smiled at her, handing her a small rectangle.

"Wha-?" She asked dazedly.

"Keep safe Laura." He patted the top of her head before he too disappeared.

Then she was left standing alone.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Connor was leaning against door of their car in apparent ease, smoking his way through a cigarette in record time as Murphy came down the stairs. The lighter-haired man nodded to his brother, dropping the half finished smoke on the ground and crushed it beneath his booted foot before climbing into the car. Murphy stowed his duffle bag in the back of the car as he hopped in beside his brother. With one last look at the windows of the apartment where Laura was, Connor gunned the engine and left the narrow alley where they kept the jalopy parked.

Neither twin spoke as they merged with traffic, and moved from street to street. Murphy could see that there was something on Connor's mind though.

"Do ye think she'll-"

"Connor." Murphy interrupted curtly. "Ye know as well as I do Laura'll be fine. She's made of sterner stuff than most."

Connor gave his twin a bitter grimace as he kept driving, moving onto one of the interstates. "We can't be thinkin' about her right now." Murphy continued. "Aye, she's been spooked pretty bad, but she's safe at the apartment. This is why we're out here, so girls like Laura don't get attacked by that kind o'scum." He watched Connor's face closely as his twin absorbed his words.

"Aye, ye're right Murph." Connor finally relented.

Murphy grinned. "Good. Now, let's get this son of a bitch."

"Amen."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Mid-morning found Laura laying almost comatose on the couch. The tv was dark and the apartment silent except for the ticking clock that hung in the kitchen. Her finger tapped a staccato beat against the cushioned arm of the couch. Slowly, she felt herself sinking deeper into the couch as her thoughts grew more distant and disconnected. Almost lazily she huffed at the tress that had fallen across her face, numbness over-riding her usual constant stream of thoughts. Her eyes drifted around the room, drinking in the scene without really seeing anything. It took too much energy to think.

A large black fly flew lazy circles around Laura's head. She swatted at it slowly with her hand to shoo it away, but the insect was persistent. As soon as it landed on her arm, she shrugged her shoulders and frightened it off. It continued flying around her, landing again on her. Perplexed, she blew at it, satisfied when it flew away again. Her pleasure evaporated when the buzzing insect landed on her yet again. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at it, stealthily moving a hand forward to bring about the creature's ultimate demise. It flew away just in time. A frustrated growl escaped from Laura's throat as the fly dared to land again on her, and she jumped up off the couch, flailing her arms around to scare it off. Huffing and puffing, finally content, she looked around the empty apartment carefully.

Then, in a sudden flurry of action, Laura was stalking through the rooms, opening windows and pushing back curtains, piling old pizza boxes and organizing empty cans and bottles, the clinking sounding out of place without the accented banter she was used to. She pushed the dishes noisily into the sink with a clatter, mindless of the possible damage she could be causing.

Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

She tucked in the chairs and straightened the piles of last weeks' newspapers, ignoring the headlines because there was no one to discuss them with. Nothing was too small to be picked up, dusted off, moved, fidgeted with (several times) or generally rearranged during her frantic attempt to create order in the spacious apartment, an attempt to create order in her head and push off the oppressive silence of being alone.

Finally, exhausted, Laura came back to kneel on the dingy off-yellow carpet in front of the couch. Collapsing in on herself, she cried, great wracking sobs escaping from her shuddering body to echo in the emptiness around her.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

A click in the lock of the old wooden door, and it swung open, revealing a musty bedroom, with one sagging queen sized bed set on a stained and torn paisley print carpet dating back to at least 1970. A small television sat on a wooden drawer that looked ready to fall apart. In the far corner were a plastic patio table and two metal fold-out chairs. The drooping wall paper had a flurry of moment running up and down it as cockroaches attempted to find a sheltered place from the intrusive light. Everything was covered in a thin sheet of dust, and the overpowering scent of air freshener didn't do anything to help the smell.

Murphy kicked his foot against the cracked door, knocking off the mud that had coated the bottom of his boot. Connor appeared over his twin's shoulder to look into the room.

"What a shitehole."

"Aye." Murphy replied, looking at the room dubiously.

"T'is just fer tonight." Connor repeated with a wry grin, pushing in past Murphy, dropping his duffle bag on the floor. Murphy followed suit, looking warily at the insects that swarmed on the wall.

Connor nudged the bed with a knee and seemingly satisfied, he flopped down on it, stretching his legs out and putting his arms behind his head. Murphy decided to forgo the bed and instead sat on the less rickety of the metal chairs, pulling out a cigarette. Connor gestured over to his brother, who threw him the half-empty pack. Within moments, both were smoking, Connor staring at the ceiling, and Murphy watching the door rather cagily.

The lighter-haired man looked over at his darker haired sibling and sighed. "Jus' because we saw a cop doesn't mean that he'll be followin' us."

"I know." Murphy defended, but didn't look reassured.

Connor swung his legs off the bed and rested his forearms on his knees. "Murphy. It was one time."

Murphy winced, voice bitter. "Yeah, yeah, one fuckin' time too many."

Connor shook his head, reminiscing. After the mess of the Yakavetta trail the twins found themselves north in New York State. Finding no end to the wicked hiding below the surface of the bustling city, the Saints swiftly went to work and cleaned house. On one occasion they received a tip about a drug cartel running from an abandoned warehouse in Gansevoort Market. Dressed in their usual outfits, they had pulled on their ski masks, nodding to each other sombrely. With the death of Rocco still weighing heavily on both their minds, neither had noticed the police car rolling to a stop at the intersection behind them. The Saints slipped into the warehouse, quickly taking out most of the drug dealers before splitting up to clean out the edges of the building.

"How did he manage ta sneak up on ye anyway Murph?" Connor took a drag on his cigarette, referring to the cop.

Murphy glared. "I fuckin' told ye, I don't even fuckin' know. One second I was lookin' fer motherfuckers ta kill, an' the next I had a fuckin' gun on the back of me head!"

"I remember that much." Connor tapped the ash off the end of the cigarette, rolling his eyes at his brother. The two were quiet for a few minutes, then Connor grinned cheekily. "Also remember tha' ye were pissed over that camera of yers."

"There was a fuckin' bullet through the film! I took a half dozen pictures of that city, and some druggie scumbag ruined them all with a bullet!" Murphy gestured heatedly with his half finished cigarette. They were quiet again. "Yeah, it was pretty funny." He relented with a laugh.

Connor stretched, looking at the digital clock. "Well, we've got four hours. Wonder if that tv works."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Hours passed slowly, punctuated with commercial breaks and the loud voices of other motel patrons. Murphy flipped his lighter over end to end, staring at the television screen from the chair. Connor sat on the bed, chin resting in his hand, boot lolling off his foot while he drummed his fingers against his knee. As the clock switched from one twenty-nine to one thirty, Murphy stood and walked across the television screen to reach the duffle bags that rested by the door. Connor wasn't far behind him, switching off the television as he passed, leaving a sudden silence in the stuffy room. Without a word, they both left the motel room, one after the other, Connor shutting and locking the door behind them. He sat in the driver's seat and turned on the car while Murphy stowed the bags, sliding in to sit beside his brother. Not a word was shared between them on the way to the rundown subdivision where their hit was located. They parked two doors down from the targeted house, they both already had their ski masks on. There wasn't a soul in sight.

Meddling with the shadows the trees cast on the ground, the Saints moved towards the once beautiful house. As one unit, they slunk across the front yard, staying close to the cedar hedge that acted as a fence between the two properties. Pushing on whitewashed fence door that was half hidden within the hedge, Connor was pleased when it swung inwards without a noise. Quickly, the Saints melted away, disappearing behind the door and out of sight of the main street.

The backyard was silent, without even a chirping bird tin any of the tall trees. A quiet lapping of water at the edge of the pool could be heard over the whirring of the air conditioner near the gate. Connor peered around the corner of the dirty stucco wall to look into the back yard. Abandoned pails sat in the sandbox under an oak tree in the far corner of the yard, and a set of empty deck chairs sat next to the pool. A yellow towel with a white sunhat lay discarded on the patio table, shaded by a multi-coloured umbrella.

Connor held a finger to his lip as he looked back at Murphy and the two of them stalked forward, one after the other, skirting the bay window and standing on either side of the open sliding glass door. Murphy looked to Connor, and he nodded, opening the door as his twin went inside.

The room was sparse, holding only a flat screen tv, and a black leather couch up against a cracked wall. The carpet was stained and ripped. Neither of them could hear anything except for a low scraping noise. Murphy pointed up at the ceiling, and Connor nodded. Slowly, they walked through the room, listening to everything and looking everywhere, their guns at the ready. There were two doors, one to a dim kitchen with pale linoleum tiles, and the other to a bright foyer.

The two moved stealthily into the foyer, steel-toed boots somehow barely making a sound against the polished wood floor. The walls were white, and a large arched window let in copious amounts of light. This room too was sparse of any human contact – no pictures on the wall, no dirt on the floor, no shoes on the mat. The scraping noise grew louder the closer they came to the stairs.

At the top of the curving staircase was a landing with a single red vase on an ebony table. A silvery mirror rested on the wall behind it, reflecting the two dark figures standing directly across, temples alit with a halo – the glow from the window behind them. Several doors stood open on this level of the building, the scraping noise coming from the door at the far end of the hall with the only closed door.

The Saints looked into every dimly lit room they passed, seeing nothing remarkable. Every room was the same with a single bed, no pictures on the walls, no carpets on the floors, only a single mirror reflecting the barren scene. They moved onward, past the empty rooms, getting ever closer to the scraping noise, boots making a hollow thudding noise against the floor as they crept forward.

Connor tried the doorknob. It was locked. He grimaced and looked back at Murphy who nodded. A precise strike from Connor's boot to the right of the lock made the door crash inwards. The room was brilliantly lit by a wide window in the far wall. It was a stark room with brown boxes piled up against the whitewashed walls, with used packing tape strewn across the floor and Styrofoam fragments scattered everywhere. A single metal table was in the middle of the room, packets of white powder half spilled across it. A rail thin man with wiry hair was sitting behind the table, a knife in his hand as he cut up the powder into portions and repackaged them. His clothes were filthy, various stains were on the front of his shirt and both his jeans and boots were coated with mud. He didn't even look up as the brothers burst through the door.

The twin shadows moved further into the room, coming to stand on either side of the table.

"I assume you guys are the Saints." The man rasped, still portioning the cocaine. Neither twin spoke, letting the silence weigh down like a final judgement. The man let out a hoarse laugh. "I knew you would come. It was only a matter of time." The twins moved to stand behind the man, and cocked their guns.

"At least I'm taking you two fuckers with me." He whispered, a sadistic grin on his face.

"Don't count on it." Murphy retorted. In unison, the twins spoke. "And shepherds we shall be…" The man calmly put his knife down on the table, listening to the prayer. "E nomini patri, et Fili e spiritu sancti." There was a breath of silence, a deafening bang, and the man fall forward onto the table, throwing a cloud of fine powder into the air. The twins covered their mouths and noses, until it settled over the dead man, his spilt blood mixing with the white drug to make a sticky pink solid on the table.

"What d'ye suppose he meant by takin' us with him?" Murphy asked, removing his mask as Connor tipped the man back to place the shiny pennies over the his eyes.

"I don't know, but I suggest we get the fuck out o'here." The fair-haired man replied impatiently, looking about nervously, his mask off as well.

The two of them efficiently searched the room, finding nothing but more drugs. They closed the door as they left the room, going through each room on the lower floor to make sure that there weren't any men they had missed. In the kitchen Murphy found a door that led underground. He gestured his twin over.

"Should we check?"

Connor considered, looking at the dark stairwell that disappeared into nothingness. "Might as well."

They both pulled their masks back on, and Murphy went first, Connor following his brother down the stairs. The unfinished basement was lit only by narrow windows, their footsteps echoed in the silence. Connor found a drawstring hanging from the ceiling, and pulled it, wincing from the sudden light provided by the bare light bulb. There was a pool table which looked out of place in the otherwise empty space. The only other pieces of furniture in the room were the long tables, and the one along the wall had a black suitcase. All the tables had knives on them. It looked as though this was the primary staging ground for the drugs. Murphy cocked a brow and opened the suitcase curiously. He grinned back at Connor, pulling out a stack of bills. "We've got next month's rent covered." He chuckled.

Connor rolled his eyes but smiled none the less. "Let's get out of here already."

They exited through the front door, stopping dead as they saw four men standing in front of them on the street. They all seemed haggard, with a twitch to the eye and a set jaw, a combination of guns between the four of them. No one moved.

Without missing a beat, the Saints brought their weapons to bear while their opponents did the same. They moved as if in slow motion, Connor pegging the man with the shotgun dead between the eyes, Murphy getting the one with the pistol. The bodies jerked back from the impact, slumping to the ground as rivers of blood fell from their wounds. The two remaining men looked to their compatriots in shock, and attempted to shoot at the Saints. Their aim was poor as their hands shook from fear, only one of their shots managed to graze Connor's upper leg while the other barely missed Murphy's ear. The two were dispensed with extremely precise shots and a wide array of curses. Realizing what had occurred; Murphy pulled the ammonia from inside the duffle bag, and sprayed down the column. Limping and swearing, Connor tried to get back to the car on his own, wincing at the sharp jolt of pain that lanced up his body. Finished destroying any possible evidence, Murphy came up to him and offered a shoulder, which Connor leant heavily on as they rushed back to their parked car.

However, the noise had attracted the resident's attention, and both men knew it was only a matter of time before the police showed up. Starting the car, Murphy drove away from the subdivision while Connor held a piece of his shirt to the wound on his leg, heading back towards their temporary hideout.


	11. XI: This Sentimental Heart

A/N: So, it's been a long long while eh? Many appologies, between my beta's crazy workload and my hard drive biting the dust, there really hasn't been any way for me to get anything up. As it goes right now, my beta tells me that she'll be sending along chapter 12 sometime next week, however, I don't have a computer right now. I'm currently borrowing my roommate's, who is a simply wonderful person. After 12 gets posted, there may not be any chapters for a while, because I've lost everything that was on the hard drive. Thank the gods for back up!

_Nobody ever had a dream round here,_  
_but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me_  
_Nobody ever pulls the seams round here,_  
_but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me_

_I've got this energy beneath my feet_  
_like something underground's gonna come up and carry me,_  
_I've got this sentimental heart that beats_  
_but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me now_

**~The Killers – Sam's Town~**

The wheels of the car crunched against the loose gravel of the parking lot. As soon as it came to a halt, Murphy hopped out, slamming the car door behind him, and raced around to the other side of the vehicle. He knew his brother, and Connor would almost certainly try to limp to the door himself unless Murphy stopped him; he was in bad enough shape as it was already. Grasping his brother around his back, he supported the fair-haired man while they hobbled to the door.

"I can fuckin' do it myself." Connor groused but leaned heavily against Murphy. Reaching into his coat pocket, Connor pulled out the scratched brass key and turned it in the lock, relying on Murphy to open the door. Murphy deposited his brother on one of the rickety chairs, rushing back out to the car to bring in their duffle bag. He slammed the door shut on his way back in.

"How bad is it?" Murphy grunted from the foot of the bed.

Wincing as he pulled the cloth off his wound, Connor quickly replaced it and pressed down hard as blood began to flow anew. "Ah, t'isn't too bad."

Murphy snorted, "Does this place have an iron?"

"Aye, it's on the shelf in the closet." Connor pointed toward the thin closet across the room. Murphy quickly walked over and slid open the door. "And there is too. How the fuck did ye know?"

His brother cracked a genuine smile, despite the blood seeping in between his fingers. "Well, that's where most o' these places store 'em. That, an' checkin' beforehand helps."

"Fuckin' smartarse." Murphy plugged the iron in on the table beside Connor and they fell into silence as they waited for it to heat up.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Murphy picked up the hot iron. "Ready?"

Connor grit his teeth, then placed the towel in his mouth to stifle any screams. He nodded roughly toward his twin, ruthlessly squashing his fear as he reached down to grip the worn armrests of the chair. Murphy placed the tip of the iron against the graze from the bullet. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air, and Murphy tried not to gag. He had done this countless times before, and had it done to him just as many times, but he didn't think he'd ever get used to that smell. He could hear Connor's grunts of pain, and his eyes looked up to look at Connor's face. Murphy's heart went out for his brother; Connor's face contorted. They both knew it had to be done right, because burning over a burn hurt worse than having to cauterize the injury to begin with.  
Connor clenched his jaw so tightly together that his mouth was aching, a pittance in comparison to the searing heat he could feel against his leg, so painful that he couldn't register what it felt like. It was hot, incredibly so, and the darkness behind his eyes became white. He screwed his eyes tighter together, breathing becoming uneven as he tried to hold back the screams he wanted to let loose. The mantra promising that it would be over soon enough kept him focussed enough to hold in the pain. It was taking so long.

Counting to ten, Murphy pulled the iron off Connor's leg, pleased to see that the wound was completely sealed. He put the iron down and Connor spat the towel out. He groaned, and placed a cupped hand over the graze, making sure that none of his fingers touched the sensitive burn.

Murphy grabbed the towel and disappeared into the kitchen without a word. Moments later, he returned, the towel dripping with cool water. He passed it to Connor, who gingerly placed it on the burn, nodding his thanks.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Laura looked at the mess of dirty dishes in the sink from the doorway. Steeling herself for the job ahead, she tied back her hair in a bun, still damp from her shower. With a grimace, she poked the grey sponge, disgusted to find it a solid lump, almost as caked with grime as the dishes in the sink. Grateful that the twins had an ancient bottle of dish soap at the very least, she turned on the rusting tap. Scalding hot water poured into the sink, and Laura added a liberal amount of soap on top of the dishes. She plunged her hands into the sink and started to wash with the dubious sponge, wincing at the temperature of the water.

In the background, the news was still playing on the TV she had forgotten to shut off, but she wasn't listening. The voice of a female reporter cut through the living room, but didn't quite make it into the kitchen where Laura was cleaning the dishes efficiently.

"The body count … found in the South Boston area. … Dead this morning in the alley behind me. In a statement made today, police officials … may be related … earlier this week. It is rumoured that … known only as the Family. The only link between these men … crime syndicate and … found on their bodies. Officials are unwilling at this time …"

The voice changed as the report ended and a news caster took over. Still Laura remained oblivious, content in her assumed distraction. "Rest assured, Channel Ten news will keep you appraised as further developments in this story arise. Now we turn to Michael Dalton with the weather…"

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"Ye want a beer?" Murphy moved to the small fridge where they had stocked the beer they had picked up before arriving at the motel.

"Fuck me, aye." He breathed shakily. Murphy tossed a can over to Connor, who caught it deftly and popped the tab. "Ta."

Murphy turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels.

"What's on?" Connor asked as he craned his neck to see the screen from the chair.

"Predator." Murphy grinned, resting his right ankle on his left knee.

Connor hobbled over to the bed. "At least it's not fuckin' Rambo again."

"Hey, fuck off. Rambo's a great movie."

In retaliation, Connor sharply nudged the darker haired man with his shoulder. "Shut up and watch the fuckin' movie."

The sun had started to set by the time the movie had finished. Murphy stood, stretching with a few popping sounds. He sighed, and looked over to his twin, who was still on the bed leaning against the wall. "Pizza?" He asked, and Connor tossed him the cell phone. He grinned slightly. "What's the address of the motel?"

Connor pulled a piece of paper off of the night table. "Says… 156 Copler Avenue."

While Murphy was busy making the usual order, Connor reached forward to grab the remote from the end of the bed, cringing as the healing skin on his leg stretched painfully but determined to find a watchable channel before his twin returned. He stopped as soon as he came across the news.

Murphy laid the phone down beside the TV, and sat down the bed beside his brother. "It'll be about a half hour."

Connor nodded, gaze locked on the new program. Murphy tapped the side of his twin's fair head. "Ye're obsessed." He said good-naturedly, and chuckled as Connor batted his hand away. "Alright, I've leave ye to it." Murphy shook his head, and headed into the bathroom to have a shower.

Connor was half asleep on the bed when Murphy opened the door to the main room, naked from the waist up. Rivulets of water ran down his bare chest, dripping from the wet hair that lay plastered on the top of his head. With a half-smile, Murphy grabbed the remote from the bed and flipped the channel to professional wrestling. Connor raised an eyebrow above heavy lidded eyes.

"Ye know that shite's fake, right?"

Murphy waved a hand, already thoroughly engrossed. "But that's not the point!"

A knock at the door interrupted the brewing scuffle. Connor nudged Murphy with a foot. "Get the door."

"But-"

"I don't care. Door."

The darker-haired man quickly checked the peep-hole, and pulled out a few bills from his back pocket. He opened the door, offering the bills in exchange for a large red cardboard box. "Cheers mate, have a good night." Murphy closed the door with a foot, and brought the pizza over to the bed, only to find Connor had changed the channel back to the news.

"Fuckin' plonker…" Murphy muttered as he chucked the box onto the bed beside his twin. "T'isn't healthy ta be watchin' this much news!"

"Shush ye fuckin' wanker. This is important shite!" Connor retorted, eyes glued to the screen. A young female reporter with blond hair had started her report, the icon in the top right corner read "Murders Rock South Boston".

"The body count rose today with the reports of two new bodies found in the South Boston area. Two middle aged men were found dead this morning in the alley behind me. In a statement made today, police officials have said that there is a possibility that these murders may be related to the murder of another young man earlier this week. It is rumoured that all three these men were related to the notorious Italian crime organization, known only as the Family. The only link between these men appears to be their relation to the crime syndicate and the religious symbol found on their bodies. Officials are unwilling at this time to comment further on theses crimes."

The voice changed as the report ended and a news caster took over. "Rest assured, Channel Ten news will keep you appraised as further developments in this story arise. Now we turn to Michael Dalton with the weather…"

Connor sat back, dropping the remote. Murphy was too surprised to even try to take it.

Murphy spoke first, breathless. "What the fuck?"

"I don't fuckin' know." Connor shook his head.

"All of the criminals in South Boston are deciding now ta die? It'll make our job easier for sure."

"It doesn't make any fuckin' sense. We need ta talk ta Da."

"And Smecker." Murphy agreed. He opened the box of pizza and pulled out a slice of pepperoni.

"Aye, he might know." Connor replied, sniffing in the aroma of fresh pizza, grabbing a piece for himself. A thought twinged in the back of his head and he paused before taking a bite. "Is there any food in the apartment?"

Murphy paused, pizza still half-way into his mouth. He chewed carefully, considering. "There's rashers, an' eggs-"

"And fuckin' maple syrup, I know." Connor interrupted impatiently. "But is there anythin' else?"

"I don't fuckin' know."

Connor sighed long-sufferingly. "Does she have yer phone?"

"Aye."

"Pass it."

Murphy looked over at the phone across the room, and groaned. He got up anyway, grabbing the cell phone off of the dresser, tossing it to his twin. "I fuckin' hate when ye're a cripple Conn."

Connor snorted. "Don't think I like it much either Murph."

Murphy took the remote and changed the channel back in retaliation, settling back down on the bed with his pizza as the sounds of pro-wrestling filled the room.

Rolling his eyes, Connor punched in the phone number to his twin's phone and held it to his ear. "At least turn that shite down while I'm on the phone y'idiot."

Murphy made some sort of unintelligible reply, but the volume was lowered. On the other end of the line, the phone was ringing.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Up to her arms in soapy water, Laura jumped when she heard the shrill sound of the phone ringing. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she moved to the door into the living room, looking for the noisy culprit. Again it sounded, and she finally located it. Muting the show that was on, she picked up the phone and settled down in the couch.

"Hello?"

"Hello Laura." The accented voice made her heart jump and sent butterflies dancing through her stomach.

"Connor!" She hoped her voice didn't reveal too much of her relief. "How are you? Did you and Murphy get there alright?"

She could hear him chuckle. "Aye, we got here fine." In the background she could make out the sounds of yelling in the background. "Murphy, turn that shite down!"

"Watching wrestling again?" She asked, a silly grin on her face.

He snorted. "Aye. How're ye doin'? Is there any food fer ye there? I know we're not the best hosts when it comes ta that."

"Oh. Yeah, I didn't even look. Let me check." Laura got up from the couch and walked to the refrigerator. "Uhhh…" She leant in, and looked in the drawers. "There's some bacon, and eggs, and-"

"Fuckin' maple syrup." Connor groaned. "Alright, why don't ye order yerself some pizza or somethin' alright? We'll be back mid-day tomorrow, and we'll get some real food then, alright?"

"Okay, sure." She replied agreeably. "I'll… see you then?"

"Ah course." There was a smile in his voice. "Bye Laura."

She didn't even have the time to say goodbye before he hung up.


	12. XII: American Masquerade

A/N: An alternative title to this chapter would be "And then there was Tamara". I decided not to go with that cuz it seemed to be a bit too crack-fic for my liking. Sorry Kara.

_I took a shuttle on a shockwave ride  
Where people on the pen pull the trigger for accolades.  
I took a bullet and I looked inside,  
And running through my veins an American Masquerade.  
_**~ Sam's Town – The Killers~**

It was late afternoon when the twins returned to their apartment. Connor's limp had eased somewhat, but that didn't stop his brother from lending a supporting shoulder. Fitting the key into the lock, Murphy took the second duffle bag from his brother, stashing it in their hall closet while Connor staggered inside.

"T'is quiet," he remarked lowly, hearing the faint buzz of the tv.

Connor nodded towards the couch, barely visible from this angle, "I think she's watchin' a show."

"Laura?" After a moment of silence, Murphy shook his head, gnawing pains in his stomach outweighing the desire to see his friend. "I'm fuckin' starvin'. Ye can go tell her we're back if ye want."

Connor half smiled, and walked to the couch. "Hey, Laura…?" He asked loudly into the seemingly vacant room. "Oh shite."

She was asleep on the couch, one hand dangling off the side, a blue cleaning cloth still held in her partially closed fist. He chuckled, plucking the rag out of her hand with two fingers. "Crazy woman."

"Hey Conn!" The call from the other room made him look up, and he hobbled into the kitchen.

"Aye?"

Murphy was standing in front of the open refrigerator. "Look at this!"

"What?"

"Did ye go out ta get groceries? Cuz otherwise we have a magical refilling refrigerator."

Connor held up the cloth. "T'isn't magic y'idiot. She's been cleaning."

Murphy took a double take of the room. "Fuck me she has. This place is spotless," he leaned up against the counter, fingers tapping against the wood. The door closed of its own accord. "She hasn't done anything like this since that guy… what was his name?"

Connor winced, "Marc. His name was Marc."

"Aye, that's right," Murphy pulled out a beer from the fridge and popped the tab. "I seem ta recall ye didn't like him much."

"Fuck ye Murphy, ye didn't like him either," Connor retorted, stiffening.

"Fuckin' relax man," Murphy held up a placating hand. "T'was a fuckin' joke. Jesus Christ, stop bein' so moody."

"I'm not being moody y'idiot," Connor pulled a beer out of the fridge, and slammed the door with more force than he intended. "Bastard grated on my nerves, that's all."

Murphy chuckled, "Could've fooled me. He was Laura's boyfriend fer all of what, a month? Don't get so personal about it."

"Two months," Connor said, taking a drink.

"Wha'?" Murphy paused, beer half-way to his lips.

"She was datin' him fer two months."

Murphy rolled his eyes, "Oh, didn't bother you one bit, I can tell."

"Shut it."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

It had happened shortly after the twins had returned from New York. After they had let her know they were in town – which had gone surprisingly well, all things considered – Laura had called them up, begging that they come meet her boyfriend. Neither man was particularly taken with Marc, Connor even less so than Murphy.

The twins had tried to talk to Laura about their misgivings, but all that had resulted in was harsh words being thrown between Connor and Laura. Even when that had been fixed, Laura still refused to talk about Marc with either twin. One day, Marc had invited Laura out to a park somewhere, and broke up with her. She had turned to the twins for comfort, and hadn't indicated an interest in anyone since, or at least not to them.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"Right caffler he was," Connor said after a moments thought.

"Ma always said to never trust a man that mumbles." Murphy agreed, coming to sit next to his brother. "Ye could barely hear a word he said."

"Didn't drink Guinness."

"Oh," Murphy mimicked, throwing his hand to his forehead. "I'll just have water to take with me in my fancy limosine."

"Plonker."

"Aye."

Connor chuckled, "Although the look on his face when you accused him of wantin' ta fuck Laura was priceless."

"So was switchin' his fancy fuckin' artisan water with vodka."

"He's fuckin' lucky I didn't drop him ta the ground when he said we were fuckin' scared of Laura. Scared of a fuckin' girl."

"Dickey Dazzler," Murphy said, more subdued this time, he knew damn good and well they hadn't been scared of Laura, they had been scared _for_ her. "She's better off without someone like that."

"Fuckin' A, my brother," Connor said, eyes drifting toward the couch where Laura often napped. "Fuckin' A."

The clock sounded loudly, announcing the hour. Both men jumped slightly, hands reaching instinctively for guns not on their bodies. Connor shook his head, and Murphy coughed slightly.

"Ye met Arlene shortly after that if I recall correct." Murphy mused aloud, breaking the train of dark thoughts and returning to their previous conversation.

Connor made a non-committal noise. "T'was a long time ago Murph."

Murphy shrugged and started rooting through the fridge again, putting his near empty can onto the counter. "Not as long as ye may think."

"Whatever. She hasn't dated anyone since."

"An' ye don't wonder why?" Murphy's muffled voice floated out from between the carrots, cucumber and celery.

"Because she doesn't want ta?" Connor shrugged, "Maybe 'cause she hasn't found anyone good enough for her, I dunno. T'isn't any o' my business ta be askin' around about her love life."

A groan from the couch caught the twins' attention, and the thud that followed made Murphy laugh. "Think she's awake."

Connor chuckled, "Aye, the floor ain't too forgiving."

A moment later, Laura appeared at the door to the kitchen, bleary eyes processing the twins in the room. "You're back."

"Would appear so," Connor quipped from his seat at the table.

She chose to ignore the remark for the time-being, stretching up to pull a glass from the cabinet. Murphy gave his twin an amused stare as he caught Connor taking an appraising look of Laura's figure; Connor refused to meet Murphy's eyes. Laura was completely oblivious as she moved to the fridge, pulling out the carton of orange juice.

"Ye went out shopping," Murphy said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I figured you guys wouldn't mind, there really wasn't anything in the fridge."

"Said that we could do that when we got back," Connor griped.

"Well I didn't want pizza again," the retort was almost petulant. "I wanted real food, I wanted to cook."

"Pizza's real food!"

"You wouldn't know real home-cooked food if it came out and bit you in the ass, Connor," Laura pulled a saucepan from the cupboard after discarding the empty glass in the sink.

"So yer goin' ta show us?" Murphy inquired with an amused smile.

"Well, it's nearly six, I figured you guys would be hungry…" She trailed off, and grinned impishly over her shoulder at Connor. "I could not if you'd rather have pizza or something."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Far be it for me ta stop ye if yer goin' ta be all _domestic_ on us."

Ever the mature one, she stuck her tongue out at him and started to rifle through the fridge for ingredients.

"Hey Laura, pass me a beer?" Murphy hopped up to sit on a counter.

She looked dubiously at the overflowing shelf in front of her, "If I can find one." A moment later, a successful noise, and Laura pushed the can along the counter to Murphy.

"You'd make a regular barkeeper," he laughed.

She rolled her eyes, dumping an armload of foodstuffs beside the sink, and grabbed the weathered cutting board from behind the knife rack. Connor got up from his chair and peered over her shoulder to see what she was cutting.

"Isn't there any meat in this meal of yers?"

She paused, mid-slice. "Hadn't thought of it."

"That'll never do," he pulled open the fridge, grabbing a package of steak, and grinned. "Perfect!"

Laura took one look at the meat and shook her knife at him. "Oh no you don't. Remember what happened last time?"

"That was only because Murphy poured in the Guinness-"

"I don't care about the alcohol, I care about the steak flambé which nearly turned into burn-the-building-down. No steak!" She sliced through the offending potato particularly viciously.

"It was one time-"

"And we do not want a repeat, capiche?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll be careful."

"Aye, I'll make sure he doesn't screw it up," Murphy said brightly. Connor tossed a stray spoon at him, which Murphy dodged.

"I was going to use that!" Laura wailed.

"Tisn't dirty, no harm done," Murphy handed it back to her.

She caught his arm. "No syrup."

"But-"

"None!"

He sighed, deflated. "Fiiiiine."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Making dinner went fairly smoothly, all things considered. Laura didn't try to kick the twins out of the kitchen because they didn't know a spatula from a cheese grater, and in turn, Connor managed to catch the pan before Murphy knocked it off the stove and onto Laura's foot – burning his hand and discovering a few new uses of the word "fuck" in the process. While Laura and Connor were busy in the bathroom tending to the burn, Murphy finished the rest of dinner – which really was just the steaks. As they came back into the room, he caught the end of question from Laura.

"… and why are you limping?"

Connor looked nervous. "Uh, I'd rather not-"

"Oh why don't ye tell her Conn?" Murphy grinned, and turned to Laura. "We were fixing up a deck at the house, an' Conn went and walked on the wrong board – completely rotten. Went crashing right through, got a terrible splinter."

"Oooo," Laura winced and looked toward Connor. "Are you alright? Did you get it looked at?"

He sat down heavily on the chair. "We just took out the splinter and put some rubbin' alcohol on it. T'is fine, stop worryin' an' eat."

Taken by his sullen expression, Laura decided not to press the matter any further, instead sitting down in the chair between the twins and digging into the meal.

"Say, Connor?"

"Aye?" He asked around a mouthful of potato.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste, poking at the remnants of food on her plate. "How was it you managed to fall through the deck anyway?"

He glanced to Murphy. "What d'ye mean?"

"You're not usually clumsy," she pointed out, picking up her wine glass.

"And ye don't usually drink wine. What of it?"

She sighed and shook her head. "It just strikes me as out of character."

"So is ye drinkin' wine. Plenty o' strange things happening."

"He's not superhuman Laura," Murphy said before Laura could reply.

"I'm not saying that he is-"

"Oh, ye break my heart," Connor held a hand over his left breast, giving her a half grin.

"Shut up Connor." She wondered if it'd be worth the mess she'd create if she threw some of her dinner at him. _Probably not._ "It just doesn't make sense, alright?" She picked up her plate and walked to the sink, scraping the leftovers into the garbage.

Murphy was close behind her. "Why's it buggin' ye Laura?"

Laura turned around and poked him in the chest. "One, don't sneak up on me, and two, why wouldn't it bug me? He's limping around like he's been shot or something!"

Connor coughed, which made Laura look away from Murphy long enough to notice how pale his face got. "Laura, yer over-exaggerating again," Murphy admonished her as soon as he regained his composure. Connor caught Murphy's eyes and he nodded solemnly.

"Fine, see if I worry about you guys again," she said snarkily as she left the room.

Connor sighed. "Y'know, ye'd be less worried if ye stopped being so hormonal," he called after her.

"Fuck you Connor!" She was still audible from two rooms away and through a closed door. Murphy looked at Connor and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, Connor glared in return. Murphy just laughed, heading to the couch to watch some late night wrestling.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The morning started with Connor burning waffles. Billowing black smoke that you usually only see in fires that take out three city blocks was coming from the kitchen. It was making Laura cough. She stood in the doorway of the guest room, listening to his tirade against brothers, waffles and fry pans that included far more swear words than strictly necessary. With a giggle she walked to the kitchen door, watching as he tried to pull the charred remains of what she assumed to be waffles at some point, a tea towel over his shoulder and a glare on his face.

"Have you opened a window?"

"No, I haven't opened a fuckin' window; I've been trying to stop this from burning!" He growled.

She laughed at his bad humour, skirting past him to pull open the sliding window over the sink, then handed him a knife. "It'd be easier if you were using this."

"Ta," he murmured, assaulting the fry pan with vigour.

"And why were you cooking waffles in a frying pan anyway? You do have a toaster," she pointed out the appliance on the counter.

"Because a fry pan makes the most sense!" His protest sounded more than a little embarrassed.

Laura laughed again, standing on her tips toes to kiss his cheek before she left the room. "Why don't you stick to cooking pasta, alright? You're great at making pasta."

Connor had frozen when her lips had brushed his skin. _What the fuck?_ He looked back at the frying pan like it could provide answers to this new predicament.

Sitting in the living room, Laura was having pretty much identical thoughts to Connor. _Why the hell did I just do that?!_ She cradled her head in her hands, mentally berating herself.

Murphy walked back inside from the fire escape and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. "Still wrestlin' with the waffle?"

"Fuck ye Murph, if ye hadn't distracted me, none o' this would've happened."

"And if ye had admitted that I was right, then ye wouldn't have burnt it," Murphy grabbed a mug out of the cabinet. Connor rolled his eyes, chipping off carbonized waffle from the bottom of the pan.

"Ye mean if ye hadn't hit me, I wouldn't have gotten distracted."

"Ye just get distracted so easily. And if ye had read the instructions, ye'd have known that I was right y'idjet," Murphy quickly retreated from the room before they could start wrestling again.

"Fuck ye Murph," Connor called over his shoulder, smiling.

Murphy grabbed the remote off of the coffee table, plopping down on the couch beside Laura and switched on football. "So, what's buggin' ye?"

"Nothing." She replied a little too quickly.

"Uh huh," he grunted. "Does this non-existent problem have ta do with my brother by any chance?"

Laura didn't reply, and Murphy sighed.

"When are ye goin' ta own up ta him?"

"…I don't know."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"I'm goin' ta go catch up with Rob," Murphy announced to his brother. Neither Laura nor Connor were talking to each other, and it was making Murphy antsy.

"Fine," Connor grunted, lifting another forkful of waffle to his mouth, dripping maple syrup on the table.

"See? Syrup's great."

"Only on some things Murphy," Connor said, casting a pointed look at his brother who had paused in the doorway.

"Fine, whatever ye want. I'll be back later," Murphy dropped a key to the house and his phone into his pocket, shutting the door behind him. Walking down the hall, he patted his jeans for his cigarette packet. Finally finding it, he pulled one out, forcing the package back into his pocket. Murphy placed it in his mouth when he stepped out onto the street, and fumbled with his sliver lighter. Head down, he didn't watch where he was going, moments later he collided head on into a dark-haired woman carrying groceries. She dropped the bag onto the ground, glass smashing and some apples rolled onto the road. A steady stream of milk inched out of the bag, mixed with what looked like egg yolks.

"Shit!" The woman cursed, dropping down to try and salvage her groceries that were lying on the street in ruins.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry," he stooped down to help her clean up.

"You should be," she retorted dryly, but gave him a quick grin.

"Can I make it up for you?" He offered a hand to help her stand up.

She accepted it, her smile reaching from her red lips to her shockingly blue eyes. "What a gentleman. Alright, I'll forgive you – if you buy me new groceries."

Murphy laughed. "Shouldn't be a problem. I'm Murphy."

"Tamara," she said over her shoulder as she dumped the bag of ruined groceries in the garbage. "Shall we?" She didn't wait, and Murphy followed as she set a fast pace down the street.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"So," Connor sat down on the couch beside Laura.

"So," she agreed.

They sat in silence while the commercials kept playing. "What was that about?"

"What?" She didn't quite look at him.

'That, in the kitchen," he gestured to his cheek with a hand.

Laura took in a deep breath and then sat silently. Connor was about to ask her again when she finally spoke. "I … dunno."

He thought about her answer. "So-"

"Could we **please** not do this now?" She picked up the remote from the couch where Murphy had left it and switched the channel.

"Alright, sure."

The second silence was no more comfortable than the first. "Can I ask ye a question?"  
"Depends what it is."

"Yer mum." That caught her attention, and she turned to look at him. "Ye said she died in childbirth. That doesn't happen too often these days."

"She had some sort of disease; it affected her blood or something. I'm really not too sure," Laura shrugged, caught up in the memory. "My father never explained it to me. I was too young at the time, and by the time I did care, I … had left."

The show on airplanes was quickly forgotten. "When'd ye leave?"

"When I was twenty-two," her replies were getting more terse.

"Why?"

She was immediately on the defensive. "I could ask you the same question."

"What?" Connor looked at her, puzzled by her statement.

"Why did you and Murphy leave Ireland?"

"To find our Da," his brows drew together as he looked at her. "We told ye that before, aye?"

"That's the first I've heard of it," Laura retorted.

"Really? I thought ye knew," he shook his head as he trailed off. "But why did ye leave?"

"Fundamental differences."

He gave her a look that prompted her to continue, albeit reluctantly. "My father wanted me to get into the family business, and I wanted no part in it."

"What's he do again?"

"Why so many questions?" Laura's question bellied her annoyance.

"Just curious," he smiled at her, and he could tell that she didn't buy his innocent act.

"He's in trades and acquisitions. Could we **please** talk about something **else**?"

"Fine, fine. Would ye like ta watch a film with me? I don't care much about those aeroplanes."

She nodded, a trace of a smile on her lips. Her eyes were still drawn, and voice still terse. "Sure, pick something."


	13. XIII: I'll Take My Time

A/N: Sorry for the delay, writing Agent Smecker ate my soul.

_If you were me  
And I was you  
I'd be flirtatious  
To see what you would do  
After all  
I'm too reserved  
And fail to act  
Til I observe_

_I'll make you mine in just a little while  
I'll take my time-it's just a little while  
Til every sign points back to me  
And I can make a move_

**~Just a Little While – The Gregory Brothers~**

"…And then the bloody creature just took off!" Murphy exclaimed with wide arms and a horrified expression on his face. Tamara was nearly doubled over in laughter.

She rubbed her watering eyes with a hand, taking a moment before replying. "What about your brother?"

"He was rolling on the lawn laughin' his arse off."

Tamara snorted. "Brothers will be brothers."

"T'was Conn's suggestion to try to walk the fuckin' thing."

"Which just proves you weren't paying enough attention. Honestly, when I was a kid, my older brother liked to lurk around corners waiting to spray me with a can of shaving cream. He acted like an angel around mom, but the twerp always had something up his sleeve."

Murphy sniggered. "Conn never tried that, thankfully. He just left me holding the leash for an animal the size of a small fuckin' car."

Tamara chuckled and shook her head. "How old were you anyway?"

"Nine I think," he speculated, looking for cars as they jaywalked across the intersection. "How far away's this grocery store o'yers?"

"It's just another block, see?" Tamara pointed to small shop positioned on the corner of the street. The windows were decorated by colourful fliers and a collection of tables sat out front; the dark wood and chipped yellow paint were covered in all manner of fresh produce.

"Finally. I was thinkin' ye were takin' me ta Africa or something."

Tamara rolled her eyes. "You sure do like to whine, don't you?"

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and crossed his arms, giving her a look. Tamara looked back at him when she realized he wasn't beside her.

"C'mon, we're almost there."

He grinned at her, eyes twinkling. "Not till ye apologize."

"Stop being an idiot." She tugged on his arm, but he remained in place.

"Yer brutal assault on my character -"

"Stop being a melodramatic baby!"

Murphy stared at her, and then abruptly burst out laughing. "What did ye call me?"

Tamara blushed and glared at the dark haired McManus. "You're acting like my brother."

"So yer callin' me a 'melodramatic baby?"

"It's what my mom called him." She defended as she pulled on his arm. "Come **on** already."

With a chortle, he started walking with her. "Never did get that apology."

"You're still on about that?" Tamara looked up at the sky and sighed. "Fine, I'm sorry for insulting you so _horrendously_."

Murphy laughed again. "Sarcastic, but it'll do."

"Pfft. I'll show you sarcastic mister." She pulled a list out of her pocket as they walked through the wood and glass door. "Could you get me a basket, please?"

Murphy picked up one of the green plastic baskets and offered it to Tamara, but she was already half way down the first aisle, pointing at a row of cans as she moved. He came up behind her, offering the basket for her to hold, and she dropped one of the cans into it before continuing down the aisle. Murphy shrugged and decided to go with it. Catching up with her, he peered over her shoulder at the list she was reading, but she chose at that exact moment to fold it away. He felt a sudden surge of annoyance, but ignored it when she asked for him to pass her something from the top shelf.

"So this's why ye have me along. I'm tall."

"That, and you're not all that hard to look at," Tamara grinned impishly at him, winking.

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So I've been told."

Laughing, she swatted his arm. "With an ego to match. Come on you. I've got a lot of things to pick up, and not a lot of time."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Murphy huffed as he hefted another armload of grocery bags. "Frankly, I don't remember there bein' this much when I bumped into ye earlier."

Tamara grinned innocently at him, causing dimples to appear in her cheeks, dark eyes sparkling. "Oh, I just picked up a few things."

Murphy mock-glared at the dark haired woman, his eyes straying to her thick black locks, meeting her brown eyes for a moment, then taking the curve of her carmine coloured lips. His eyes slid down the slender bronze neck to her cotton blouse, and then heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat – specifically Tamara. His eyes snapped up to hers as his cheeks flushed.

"This is my apartment," her smile told him she knew exactly what he had been doing.

"Ah. D'ye need me to help ye bring these upstairs?"

"No, that's alright." His expression fell and he turned to leave. She tapped his shoulder and handed him a piece of paper when he turned.

"Wha's this?"

She laughed. "My number. I expect to be hearing from you again Murphy." Tamara sent him one final wink over her shoulder as she sashayed up the steps with her groceries.

Murphy was speechless until the heavy door closing jolted him back to reality. "Fuckin' A!"

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

The movie had long since lost Laura's interest. Between the Wonderland references and the random violence, she really didn't care for it – far too confusing. Instead, she looked out at the wispy white clouds that were blowing across the late August sky. Connor was completely absorbed by the film, and she was absorbed with not paying attention to him; mostly due to what had happened earlier. It was more difficult than she thought. Probably would be easier if she wasn't living with him.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't had anything to eat that morning. Quietly, so as not to disturb Connor, she got up and headed to the kitchen.

"Makin' popcorn?"

"Nah, breakfast," she called back, going into the fridge for some eggs.

"Want me ta pause the film?"

"No, that's okay."

"Oh." Then he was in the doorframe, watching her pull out the frying pan from the cupboard. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't even worry about it. I made you watch that girly movie that one time, so we're even." She flashed him a grin while he grimaced at the recollection.

"Don't remind me. Tha' blonde may not have been hard on the eyes, but good Lord was she stupid. Going to Harvard just to get her boyfriend back," he shook his head. "Is that how all ye females view love?"

Laura giggled at his obvious distaste, pulling away from the stove to avoid being splattered with oil as she cracked the egg into the pan. "No, but it is fun to watch."

"I'll never understand women; ye're all fuckin' mad."

After the eggs were eaten and the dishes cleared away, Laura found herself across the table from Connor with no distractions. He was watching her, and she was watching the clouds outside of the window. The annoyance of the ticking of the clock was making her consider unplugging it permanently.

"Why don't ye like to talk about yer family Laura?" Connor's question broke the tension, and Laura struggled to find a suitable excuse.

"Oh, you know, we don't really see eye to eye. Nothing big," she shrugged it off, doing her best to appear nonchalant.

Connor narrowed his eyes. "About what?"

"Nothing to be concerned about Conn," she smiled, standing up from the table. "Now, I should really get to the laundry."

"Laura-" he was interrupted by the disgruntled voice of his twin, which was clearly audible to both of them through the door closed door.

"Fuck! Who locked this?" the doorknob jiggled. "Lemme in, ye twat!"

Laura heard Connor sigh as she disappeared back into the guest room, successfully escaping.

Connor pulled the door open with more force than strictly necessary, and looked at Murphy. "What did Rob have ta say?"

Murphy stopped in his tracks. "Fuck. I didn't get ta Rob; I ran into someone."

Connor opened his mouth to tear his twin a new asshole when Laura popped her head around the corner. "Washing machines are in the basement?"

Murphy nodded. "Aye, you know where, right?"

"Oh yeah. But I wanna hear about this girl you've met," she said, stepping out of the room.

"I – I didn't even say…" he sputtered. Laura's laughter was quickly followed by the door closing.

"Call Rob, I'm goin' ta have a smoke," Connor said over his shoulder.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Rays of yellow sunlight crept through the closed slats of the horizontal blinds lining the windows. At the centre of the room was a desk, piled high with papers and beige folders. A disposable cup, half full of stone-cold coffee teetered precariously at the edge of the desk, rampant paper work nearly knocking it off. In amongst the mess sat Special Detective Paul Smecker, hand mashed against his eyes, doing his best not to pull out his hair in frustration.

A knock came at the door. Smecker ignored it, continuing to rub his eyes in the vain hope that it would help alleviate the blossoming headache above his right temple.

"Sir?" a tentative male voice spoke through the crack in the door.

"I _asked_ not to be disturbed. Do you need me to repeat it for you? Perhaps in another language? Maybe I should draw you a picture."

The man on the other side of the door hesitated, then forged ahead. "There's a gentleman here to see you. He says it's very important, and that he has to see you immediately."

Smecker looked up from the desk, knowing he must have looked as haggard as he felt. "Fine, bring him on in." _Not like I was getting anywhere anyway. _

A soft scuffle of shoes on the hardwood floor announced the unsolicited guest. "Good morning Mister Smecker. I am sorry to have disturbed you from your work," the voice was clipped, suave and self-assured. It was a voice reserved for lawyers, or used car dealers.

"Special Agent," Smecker replied curtly.

"I beg your pardon?" The man was wearing a dark suit, which was impeccably clean, complete with a black fedora, all of which were very much like the bodies the Boston police officers had been finding for the past three weeks. Clenched between his hands was a simple black suitcase.

"It's Special Agent Smecker." He did not stand to shake the other man's hand.

"Hmm. Very well, _Special_ Agent," the man's sarcasm was not lost on Smecker. "I have heard through various sources that you are currently working on a case of great interest to my employer. Particularly dealing with the religious slayings of several … associates of mine."

Smecker folded his hands over a particular folder resting on his desk, leaning closer to the man. "Is that so, Mister…?"

"Baker. Mister Baker will do just fine. My sources inform me that you've recently made a breakthrough in this case."

"And you're looking for information pertaining to an ongoing investigation," Smecker scoffed. "You really think that you can saunter in here and demand answers out of me?"

"Dirty cops don't command the same amount of respect in my opinion. You're renowned for taking any means to reach your ends; and with your recent foray into vigilantism, I would think it would be less _painful_ for you to part with just a little of your information."

Smecker's world slowed around him, Baker's words ringing in his ears. He blinked, and everything came back into focus. "I believe you have me mistaken with someone else Mister Baker. If you'd kindly excuse me-"

"I know I don't have you mistaken Agent Smecker," Baker's grin was cool as he pulled out a folder from his suitcase. It looked remarkably like the hundreds of others that currently lay surrounding Smecker on the desk.

Smecker stood from his desk, hiding his anxiety behind a professional mask. "I'd like it if you'd leave now Mr. Baker."

"I'm not yet finished with you Agent Smecker."

"This discussion is over."

Baker beat him to the door, holding out a photo. "I think you'd very much like to see this before you decide on that Agent."

Smecker took a look at the image and paled. The picture showed him with the twins in Boston, letting them out of a police vehicle. He looked back up at Baker's impassive face. "I don't take kindly to blackmail Mr. Baker."

"No one enjoys it, Agent Smecker, that's the point of it. Perhaps we should sit down?" Baker gestured to the desk and Smecker grudgingly followed the shorter man. "I'm sure the media would find this very interesting. Not to mention what your supervisors would have to say."

"I get your point Mister Baker," Smecker managed through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"Just some information, nothing too taxing. A pittance compared to what rules you've already broken." He passed the file folder over to the agent. It was filled with photos of Smecker, Greenly, Duffy and Dolly at the courthouse, and more photos of them releasing the twins from a police vehicle. "I take it that you are investigating the recent rash of murders in the South Boston area?"

Smecker nodded tersely, handing the folder back. "We've recovered eight bodies, each with the same cross engraved on their chests."

Baker raised an eyebrow, looking thoughtfully at the folder he held. "And?"

Smecker closed his eyes, wondering if he pulled a gun and killed this cocksucker now, anyone would hear the shot. "No connection between any of the men, other than they were all involved in something illegal."

"What about the people who are targeting them? Do you have any information on them?" Baker leaned forward, tone anxious.

"No fingerprints, no fibers, no hair, nothing."

Baker grimaced, and pulled another folder out of his briefcase, identical to the first. "Have you heard of Los Hermanos del Sol before Agent Smecker?"

Smecker took the folder from Baker's hand and quickly leafed through it. "Vaguely. Mostly operating in the Chicago region, beyond that, they rarely do business outside of middle America." He took in what the man was implying. "No record of any religious symbolism on victims though."

"Except for on specific targets. Look back through the case files, to Conti. Same ritualized death, and again the same is true with Garcia."

"What's the connection?" Taking the folder from Baker's hands, Smecker leafed through them briefly before pulling the two reports out of the file, placing them on the desk in front of him.

"We don't know," Baker admitted.

Smecker leant back in his chair, mulling through the information he had. "Didn't you say that the victims were associates?"

"I may have mentioned it."

"And your employer, what exactly does he do?"

"Shipping." The man smiled in a way that made Smecker want to slap him into next Sunday.

"So if you know all this, why are you talking to me?"

"You are going to solve this case, for us."

"Like hell I will!" The man held up the folder of pictures again, and Smecker ground his teeth in frustration. Finally, he sank back into his chair, disgusted. Silence reigned for a few moments before Smecker spoke. "Does your employer have any enemies?"

"Undoubtedly. All businessmen do."

"Any enemies who would send Los Hermanos del Sol after his associates?"

"I can't say."

Smecker's long fingered hands clenched into fists. "You're not going to tell me who you're working for, what he does, who his enemies are, and why he might have been targeted by these individuals, but you still expect me to solve this for you?"

"Exactly," Smecker was about to interject when Baker raised his index finger in warning. "You will tell no one of the purpose of this meeting, you will make no effort to come after me, or my employer, and you will seek no help from your vigilante friends. If this is done and the case is solved to our satisfaction, the pictures go away. If not, I'm afraid you're going to have quiet the storm on your hands."

"Fuck you."

Baker stood up, smiling pleasantly, briefcase in hand. "Have a nice day, Special Agent. We'll be watching."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Paul Oralee stood up from his polished oak desk to look out at the city. In one hand was a wide glass half filled with a red liquid, and he rubbed his neck with the other. A knock came at the door.

"Come in."

"Sir, he's ready now."

Oralee turned to look at the elderly man in the doorway. "Very good Romero. You are free to go."

"Thank you sir." Romero left the room. With one final look out the window, Oralee walked to the elevator and headed to the basement.

It was a dimly lit expanse of space, many crates piled one on top of the other, disappearing into the stifling darkness above. There were only two areas that were lit – the doors in, and a chair at the centre of the room. A thin, beady eyed man with messy hair was tied to the chair, gaunt body slumped in defeat with four muscular men standing around him. Oralee's polished leather shoes tapped against the concrete floor as he walked out to bound figure.

"Vincent." The word made the little man's head snap up, a hopeful glint in his eye dying upon seeing the look on Oralee's face.

"Boss, y'gotta believe me!"

Oralee shook his head, speaking in a calm and level voice. "Quiet now Vincent." He signaled for his men to move back and give the battered Vincent some space, then leant in close to Vincent's face. "I took you in. I cared for you after your father was killed. I made sure your mother had a place to stay. I even managed to get your sister into a private school, and this, _this_ is how you repay me? I am very disappointed in your Vincent."

"Boss, please understand! They were gonna kill Jackie!" Panic made Vincent's voice jump and octave and he stretched against his bonds.

Oralee stood back, clasping his hands in front of him. "You knew how the operation worked when you signed up with us. The Family comes first, even before your sister."

A realization far too late came to Vincent's eyes, followed by despair. "Please boss."

"For double crossing me, you will die."

"Boss, please!"

He ignored Vincent's cries as the men closed back in. "I am sorry Vincent. You could have been great, you really could have," he turned to the group of men. "Clean up after you're done." Oralee turned and walked back out of warehouse, Vincent's cries for mercy following him. As the double doors closed behind him, the screaming was cut off by a muted gunshot. Oralee wiped his hands together and turned to the men standing guard by the door.

"Has Marlo been around?"

"Haven't seen her recently boss. Sorry."

Oralee nodded to the gravelly-voiced security guard. "That's alright Peter. I'll find her."

Converting a hotel into an office was, at best, considered unconventional, but it made operations more efficient. Oralee nodded at his staff as he walked through the lobby, stopping momentarily at the front desk to inquire of the whereabouts of Marlo. She was relatively new to his organization, and quite the asset. There wasn't a person in the United States that she couldn't track down, and she wasn't too bad at finding individuals outside of the country as well.

Thanking the receptionist, Paul Oralee headed to the elevator, pressing the button and waiting patiently. He made a mental note to ask someone to find new music for the elevators.

On the twelfth floor, half-way down the hall he found his target. "Working late again Marlo?" he asked from the doorway, watching the curly haired woman focus solely on the computer screens in front of her.

She took a quick glance at him then kept typing. "Oh, hi boss. Yeah, I've almost got a fix on Robert."

"Really?" Oralee moved to stand over her shoulder, looking at the lines of text on the screen. "Where abouts?"

"Northern Italy actually," she highlighted a certain section with her mouse before continuing. "He's been doing his best to stay out of sight, until today that is. Given how clever he is, I wouldn't be surprised if the credit card trail is actually a diversion."

Oralee pursed his lips, deep in thought. "Perhaps," he finally agreed. "However, it's the first hit in a month. Do we have people over there?"

She pulled up another window, scrolling through the page. "There's a couple agents in Milano, another few in Bolonga, this statement's from Aosta…" Marlo pulled up a map and tutted. "I'll get in touch with our two in Milano. Seven hours difference, what time is it now?"

Oralee looked at the watch on his wrist. "Two in the morning."

"Means it's nine over there. Perfect. This statement was from eight, local time, which means they'll only be three hours behind him if they leave now."

"Do you know where he's going?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't tell you, but I will keep an eye out for anything else that shows up. Who knows, a pattern might emerge."

Oralee clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Good. You should make those calls and get going soon."

"You got it," she waved him away as she picked up one of the corded black phones and started dialing.

Oralee paused as he was at the door. "What about Elizabeth, Marlo?"

Marlo looked up at him, waiting for the international operator to pick up. "She's still in Boston. The clean-up is going well; last check there were only a couple more to deal with, and the girl."

"Don't touch the girl. I'm going to deal with her personally."

"Absolutely sir. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Marlo."

As he stepped out of the office, Oralee released a breath. They finally had a hit on Robert.

His son was coming home.


	14. XIV: Wait and See

_When the time's exactly right  
I'll let you know  
You're not alone  
Unless it seems I've misinterpreted  
What I thought to be reciprocal  
and start to think_

_If you were you  
And I was me  
My plan of action  
Would be to wait and see  
So I'll be somebody else  
Unless you'd rather me be myself_

**~Just a Little While – The Gregory Brothers~**

"Rob ditched," Murphy announced as he walked out onto the fire escape. The muted sounds of traffic came up from the street while heavy grey clouds loomed overhead.

Connor grunted. "Did he say why?"

"Something about being followed," Murphy rolled his eyes as he helped himself to a cigarette. "He's fuckin' paranoid."

"A little paranoia never hurt anyone," Connor took one last drag on his cigarette, and dropped the butt onto the metal grating, crushing the remaining embers under his heavy boot. The glib reply wasn't as light-hearted as it had intended to be; Rob's gutless terror wasn't unusual in itself, but with everything else that had been going wrong recently, the coincidences were making Connor antsy. Doing God's work was a thankless task; necessary, but likely to get a person thrown into prison. _We're lucky we have Smecker watching our backs. _

"It does when you're convinced every stray cat is a sniper out to kill you," Murphy gestured widely with his unlit cigarette, sarcasm dripping off each word. "Or tha' pigeon that was a rival mobster's assassin? An' how 'bout those crickets who were wire taps?"

"Smartarse," Connor said with a half smile as he walked back into the apartment. He ran a hand through his hair as he thought. "So, what are we goin' ta do about Rob?"

"He told me to call in a week."

"Are you fucking serious?" Connor stopped where he stood and snapped his head towards his brother.

Murphy shrugged at Connors' disgusted tone, his response airy. "Ye're the one who said we should trust his instincts."

Connor glared. "In any case, we should check in with some other contacts," he said. "How long ago did Da leave?"

Murphy inhaled slowly, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "A few weeks? Why?"

"He's been gone a while, that's all."

"Ye worry too much," Murphy scoffed, tapping the ashes off the end of his cigarette. "He does this all the time."

Connor snorted divisively, and switched the topic. "We still need to talk to Smecker."

"Aye, haven't heard from him in a while. Wonder what he's up to."

Connor dug into his jean pocket, and pulled out his cell phone. "What d'ye expect he's up ta?"

"Fuck off Conn." Murphy took another deep drag on the cigarette, nearly cutting it down to the filter.

"Why don't ye go ahead an' call some of our other contacts? I'll try ta get in touch with Da and Smecker."

"Fine. Leave me all the hard work will ye," Murphy whined, but started dialling, disappearing into their shared bedroom. Connor punched in a familiar number on his own phone and paced the hallway while he waited. When Smecker didn't pick up after six rings, Connor hung up and checked the time, perplexed. There was no reason for Smecker not to be picking up his cell phone. Just to be safe Connor dialled the number to the office phone. It rang three times before it was picked up.

"Smecker here." The voice at the other end of the line sounded weary.

"Ye sound like shit," Connor said, forgoing any sort of greeting.

There was a long pause, making Connor wonder if Smecker had hung up. Just as he was about to say something, Smecker said, "I'm in… I'm in a meeting."

"Are ye-"

"I'll get back with you." The response was clipped and terse, followed immediately with silence. Connor's phone announced with a beep that the call had been dropped. He stared at it, his face showing a mixture of confusion, disgust and anxiety.

"What the fuck?"

Murphy looked up from his bed. "What's the matter?"

"He just hung up on me."

Murphy shrugged. "Maybe he was busy? Oh, hey Danny," the dark haired McManus turned back to the phone call.

Connor pursed his lips and dialled his father's number. Something was not right at all – Smecker was their strongest ally, and most valuable resource. He was **always** there for them; he wouldn't just hang up on either of them with that kind of bullshit excuse. Connor was dragged his thoughts back in as his father picked up the phone. "Hey Da."

"Connor? Is somethin' the matter?" The elder McManus asked, voice full of concern as the line cracked and fuzzed.

"Ye could say that," Connor grumbled.

"Are ye hurt? Did somethin' go wrong?"

Connor rolled his eyes at his father's needless worrying. "We're both fine Da," he sighed.

"Ye better be; I told ye ta be careful."

"I know Da. I remember," Connor reassured his father. "D'ye temember the las' guy ye sent us after?"

"He was tha' drug dealer peddling to students, aye?"

"Aye, him." Still pacing, Connor paused at the end of the hall, looking out the door at the grey city street below. There were angry storm clouds on the horizon; he heard the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. "Bastard set up a trap for us; said that we'd be getting what was comin' ta us. An' now Smecker won't take our calls."

There was a pause. "I think yer over thinkin' this a bit lad. Give Smecker some time, he's got a big case ta worry over, or so I heard. As for yer drug dealer's threat, just be wary. He wasn't a big fish, just some thug ruining children's lives. Keep yer eyes open. It's unlikely that somethin' will come of it, but it never hurts ta be careful."

"Alright," Connor conceded, still not convinced. "We haven't seen you in a while Da. Are ye alright yerself?"

"I'm on my way to Florida. I have some personal matters to attend to."

"Da!" Connor complained, a bit worried for his father's welfare, and a bit frustrated how often his dad was acting like a teenager experiencing wanderlust.

"Don't ye worry, I'll be back soon enough. I have ta go now."

Connor growled at the phone, once again being informed that the call had dropped. Murphy raised an eyebrow, putting his phone back in his pocket. "What's goin' on?"

"Da's gone down ta Florida."

"Why?" Murphy queried, amused at his twin's annoyance.

"_Personal_ matters."

Murphy arched an eyebrow. "Salty dog, innit he?"

Connor snorted in derision, leaving the room.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Detective Greenly climbed the concrete steps in the grimy stairwell, counting the hours till he could be off duty. These past weeks had been exhausting; mentally, physically and emotionally. Smecker was on edge, which put everyone else on edge too. He hadn't been this stressed out since the Saints case, and the end result of that one had **not** been pretty. Not saying that Yakavetta hadn't deserved what had been coming to him, but making everyone is court watch? Greenly shook his head and tried to stop thinking about it. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up blurting something out and then everyone would be screwed.

He checked his notebook as he stood in front of the apartment door. The tarnished brass number read fifty-three, so this looked like it was the right spot. He raised a hand and knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.

"Who is it?" growled a voice from inside.

"South Boston Police Department, I just a have a few follow up questions." Greenly pulled out his notebook and nearly dropped his pen. Today had been awful, Smecker had made him go out twice for coffee and food; once for the food, and once to fix the order he screwed up.

"Just a sec."

Greenly could hear the bolt scraping against the metal of the lock as it was drawn back. A pair of eyes peered out at him through the crack in the door, the brass chain clearly visible.

"Do you mind if I come it?" he asked lightly, hiding his grin. It was a rather rundown neighbourhood, the extra security could be necessary for all he knew.

The only reply was a grunt, and the door shut before opening a few seconds later. Feet padded away into the tenebrous depths of the apartment, and Greenly was hesitant to follow. The only light came from a crack in a boarded up window, a musty odour permeating the air. The rips in the tattered carpet revealed scuffed tiles on the floor, and the narrowness of the hall was making Greenly claustrophobic.

Shutting the door behind him, the detective followed the retreating footsteps through the door at the far end of the short hall. Inside the room were five men, one sitting at a table and the rest leaning against various walls. They were all half covered in shadow.

"Is Patricia Saltz here?" Greenly looked around nervously, as if she'd appear from behind them. He was suddenly acutely aware that his gun was, in fact, not in his holster, but back in the squad car in the alley below.

"She is… unavailable." The man's silky voice did nothing to calm Greenly's rapidly growing fears. "Do let Agent Smecker know that we will pass the relevant information on to him when the time calls for it," the seated man said, completely nonchalant. He gestured to the chair in front of him. "Come, sit. I have some questions for you."

"I should really be getting back to the precinct-" Greenly tried to object, but jumped when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, inwardly cursing his terrible luck. "Or I could sit down for a bit, yeah."

The man smirked, and laced his fingers together. "So, Detective Greenly, is it?"

"Yeah. Who are you?" He refrained from cursing.

"You may call me Mister Baker," the man inclined his head ever so slightly. "I hear you have made a breakthrough on your case?"

"I can't discuss that," Greenly said disgustedly. Again the hand fell on his shoulder, and he glared up at the man attached to it.

"Calm yourself detective. I just wish to assist with your case."

"And I can't release details of an ongoing investigation. Now, if you don't mind-"

"Sit down detective."

It wasn't a request. Greenly sank back down, glowering at the shadowy man.

"Now," Baker continued, "you are familiar with the 'Saints', is that correct?"

Greenly hid his anxiety; trying to sound unconcerned. "I worked on a case about them last year. What about it?"

A folder appeared, and two photographs were pushed across the table. "That's all, detective?"

He leant forward, and Greenly swore under his breath at the image. _How did he manage to get a shot of me with the Saints? They're still decked out in the bloodstained clothes they wore in the courtroom for fuck's sake!_ "How did you get these?"

"Unimportant," Baker brushed his question aside and the picture disappeared. "What is important however is that you officers working on this case don't seem to be doing your jobs."

Greenly opened his mouth to protest, and Baker raised a hand. "I didn't come here to hear excuses detective. I came here for results. I don't care how you do, I want this solved. Soon." Greenly nodded, noting the weaponry the burly men were carrying. It was four armed men, and Baker, against one unarmed him. _Fucking hell. There's no way I could fight my way out of this. Fuck fuck fuck. _

"Excellent," said Baker. "You may go."

As the detective reached the door, Baker called out again. "Oh, and Detective Greenly?"  
He paused at the door, looking back into the room. Baker leant forward into his chair; his face catching the light for the first time. There was a thin smile on his lips, his brown eyes bitingly cold as he watched the detective.

"I don't have to tell you what will happen if you speak of this to anyone, do I?"

Greenly shook his head.

"Good."

Greenly was shaking as he got back down to the alley, face ashen. Silently, he got into the squad car and drove back to the precinct, unable to think up a solution to this mess.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

"Hey boys!" Both of the twins turned to look when Laura bounced her way back into the apartment. She was carrying an empty hamper and had a bright smile on her face, her eyes shining. "I'm going out jogging, I'll see you later, okay?"

Murphy nodded, a faint smile gracing his lips. "Yeah, sure. Have fun."

The door shut with a clack, and the rubber soles of her running shoes squeaked down the hall as she left. Connor was back out on the fire escape, leaning on the railing. Murphy walked over to the doorframe. He was about to speak, but Connor beat him to it.

"She's getting better."

Murphy watched his twin with keen eyes "Aye. T'is a relief to be honest."

Connor nodded slowly, and a comfortable silence stretched between them. "So who's this girl ye met?"

Murphy should have known this was coming. "Her name's Tamara. She's clever, an' likes ta screw with me," he chuckled. "Tiny li'l Indian lass, very pretty – don't know why she decided to hang around me. Then again, she did make me pay for all her groceries."

"How did ye met her?" Connor pried, flicking open his lighter. Murphy could hear the mirth hidden below his bland tone – he'd known his brother far too long for Connor to be able to fool him.

"Bumped into her on the street – knocked her bags onto the ground. She convinced me ta help her get some more."

"Doesn't sound like ye needed much convincing," his brother snickered.

Murphy rolled his eyes. "At least have the balls ta act."

Connor arched an eyebrow, voicelessly indicating Murphy should continue.

"What about ye and Laura then?"

"What about us?" Connor deflected, seeming very interested in the chipping paint on the metal railing.

"Don't play coy ye arse. Ye have feelings for her, and we both know it."

Connor exhaled slowly, avoiding Murphy's eyes as he flicked the lid closed. "She's a friend."

Murphy looked at his brother, brow raised sceptically. "A friend."

"Aye, a friend."

"Ye sure about that? Jus' a friend?" He needled.

Connor looked at Murphy, expression guarded. "Aye, she's jus' a friend."

"What about Marc?"

Connor paused, flicked the lighter open then closed again. The repetitive click broke the silence. "Who?"

"Marc. Her ex?"

"He was a twat." His voice was devoid of emotion as he looked back out at Boston.

Murphy refused to let the topic go. "An' ye think that because…"

"He was a twat."

Murphy growled, no longer having the patience for Connor's games. "Oh fuck off! Ye were jealous of Marc!"

"I was not."

"Ye were so!" He protested.

Abruptly, Connor faced Murphy. "Okay, I was! Are ye happy now?"

Neither man spoke for a moment. Connor was glowering at the street, and Murphy searching for words. "Why haven't ye said anythin' ta her?"

Connor let out a bitter laugh. "It'd screw everythin' up. Girls get crazy when yer datin' them."

"A few experiences don't dictate them all," Murphy objected.

Connor's lip quirked up. "That's surprisingly insightful of ye brother."

The dark-haired man crossed his arms, adamantly avoiding the tangent. "Laura's nuts about ye."

"Leave it alone Murph."

"Look, if ye'd just talk to her-"

"Leave it **alone** Murph!" Connor yelled at his brother, and Murphy shouted right back, aggravation clear in his voice.

"I can't believe yer doin' this! Yer not doin' good for either of ye!"

"The fuck do you know!" Connor turned away and took a deep breath. "Murphy, just drop it, please. I don't want to get involved with anyone jus' yet."

"Fine," he acquiesced, albeit grudgingly. "Will ye at least tell her how you feel?"

Connor didn't speak for a few seconds; Murphy could practically see the turmoil on his twin's face. "Maybe."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Detective Duffy was cursing his bad judgement. The entire SBPD had been working themselves to the bone over this new case; Smecker was looking worn at the edges, and when Greenly had gotten back from following up with some witnesses that afternoon, he looked like he was going to collapse. And now here Duffy was, on his way home from the precinct for some sleep – the first in nearly a day and a half – caught in a downpour.

Grumbling to himself, the detective turned down one of many alleys he used on a regular basis as a shortcut to his apartment. He brushed the water off of his face, wishing he had taken his car. _But no, it looked nice outside._

Exiting the alley, Duffy didn't have a second to look before he found himself on all fours, coughing as searing pain lanced through his solar plexus. There had been a man in front of him – no, two men. Duffy forced himself to try to recall their details from the brief moment he glanced at them. They were two wholly unremarkable men, dressed in black suits. One of them had a hat, the other was wearing glasses. _And now I'm their punching bag?_ He tried to crawl away but a blow caught his left elbow, the shocking pain knocking him down to the slick alley asphalt. _What the fuck?_

Duffy tried to reach his gun only to have his hand stepped on and ground into the dirty asphalt. Through the pain, he felt a hand ghosting around his holster, and heard the clatter of his gun against the ground. Someone had tossed it away. Wrenching his hand away, he pulled himself to his knees for a moment; a strike to the back of his leg nearly knocked him down again as he strove to keep balance, the pain making him feel sick.

A fist cuffed his head making his vision spin, and he spat out blood from a split lip. Another kick hit his stomach, and he wheezed as another kicked to his side made him fall over. He weakly covered his head and brought his knees up to his chest, but that did little to stop the blows from falling down on him. Finally, after an eternity, the assault stopped, and a single voice spoke.

"We know about the Saints, and what you did." Duffy winced, only half hearing the man speaking, words blurring in the pain. Every part of his body was aching, and his head was spinning.

"You solve this case, or you'll find yourself their next victim." He tried to process what that meant when another brutal kick to his stomach made him groan weakly. "Tell no one." Footsteps faded into the distance as Duffy struggled to sit upright, still having difficulty understanding what had just happened.

_Today sucks._

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Connor was still standing on the fire escape, his face blank. Murphy had recognized Connor's need for space and had gone inside to watch TV. The fair haired man grit his teeth as he looked out, the rushing of nearby traffic blocking out almost all other sounds. The argument had forced Connor to take another look at his relationship with Laura. It had been months since he had been with Arlene – though Murphy said she was still asking after him. Fuckin' weird that Murphy had run into her in the bar last week.

He had feelings for Laura. He knew that. He didn't want to know that, but he knew it. Loving her would make things too complicated. Hell, even having sex with her would make things too complicated. He exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes in frustration. Women took too much time, too much effort. She didn't even know about their mission – Arlene had been pissed every time he had to disappear without warning, and Laura had just as much of a temper.

But he wanted her. She was gorgeous, clever, and was full of passion. Sometimes she was more volatile than his brother, but that just kept their relationship interesting. He could deny it, but it was painfully obvious, even to him. Would it be worth it?

Down below, he saw a flash of dark hair. Laura had returned from her jog and headed to the door in the alley. Following closely behind her were two men in dark n clothes. It took a moment to realize the implications, but Connor snapped up, and started running down the stairs. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he only hoped he would get there before the men caught up with her. He knew he wouldn't.

As he grew closer, he could hear an argument in Spanish. One voice he recognized as Laura's, the others were unfamiliar. He wished he was closer so he could understand more of what was being said.

-I'm not going back!-

Laura's voice, shrill with anger, was easy to make out, but Connor was unable to hear what the two men were saying to make her so enraged. He couldn't see them either – they were around the corner, and he cursed fire escapes for being so difficult to navigate. If it hadn't been so twisty he would have already been at the bottom by now.

The conversation had faded to a murmur by the time his feet hit the ground, and Connor turned the corner just in time to see the two men disappearing around the far corner. Laura heard his foot falls and turned, surprised to see him there.

Connor inclined his head towards where the men had vanished. "Wha' was that about then?"  
"Old friends," she replied, looking at her fingers and shifting her feet. Her entire body was stiff, and he could see she was uncomfortable.

"Laura-"

"I bet the laundry's done by now. I should go get it." Her interjection was less of an observation and more avoidance; she sounded too anxious for it to be anything else. Jaw set, he followed her into the building, knowing he wasn't going to get any further on the subject right now. _Women_.

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Detective Dollypoposkallius pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching for his cold cup of coffee. The pages were beginning to blur before his eyes; words swimming across the paper. They had all been working hard, and gaining nothing for their labours. Everyone was frustrated, and everyone was exhausted. Half of the officers who were working on the case had been sent home, but he had offered to stay and help Smecker with some of the files. It was slow and tedious work, but with every name crossed off the list would bring them closer to closing the case.

Hopefully.

The detective looked up from his desk in time to see a group of men dressed in suits march to Smecker's office. A shorter man with a fedora rapped smartly on the door; moments later, it opened, Smecker's disgruntled voice reaching out into the rest of the building. As the men disappeared into the office, Smecker poked his head out.

"Dolly! Get home and rest. I'll see you in the morning." The agent shut the door forcefully.

Dolly started to obey, moving the folders and papers on his desk aside to work on them tomorrow. Then, curiosity getting the better of him, he crept closer to the closed door to find out what was happening inside. Something seemed off to him, and he was going to find out what it was. The voices coming through the door were very distorted; Dolly couldn't make out much of what was being said.

Struck with an idea, the detective left the police department, and hurried around the side of the building. Sure enough, the window was open – probably because their budget didn't presently allow for air conditioning. Sidling the wall, Dolly pressed himself as close as he possibly could below the open window without being seen. As he filtered out the irrelevant background noise, he began to make out what was being said.

"- and we can't investigate any faster when you're taking away the witnesses!" Smecker growled in frustration.

"As I told you Agent Smecker, you will be receiving the relevant information when I deem it necessary." The second voice wasn't familiar to Dolly, it was silky and detached.

Dolly could imagine Smecker gritting his teeth. "Fine. What do you want then?"

"I want you to do your job, Agent." The condescension in the man's voice was pissing Dolly off, and he wasn't even in the room.

"I can't do it without all the facts!"

"You know our agreement," the other man replied coolly.

"I'm working myself to death, Baker, and I'm riding these SBPD boys like winning racehorses, there's only so much I can do."

"_Mr._ Baker if you please, and whatever efforts you're putting forth, clearly aren't good enough. I expect results."

Dolly was listening so intently that he didn't notice two men come up behind him. Suddenly, he found himself much closer to the wall than he had intended as his head was forced into the brick wall, heavy hands propelling him forward. Bright spots exploded in front of his eyes; he was vaguely aware of being dragged backwards and shoved into the open door of a car.

When he was able to see properly again, Dolly found himself looking at a nondescript man, dressed in black with a gold pocket watch in his hand.

"Ah, Detective. I trust you garnered yourself some interesting information?"

Sprawled on the floor of the vehicle, Dolly could clearly see the gun on the seat beside his abductor.

When Dolly didn't speak, the man continued. "I trust you are intelligent enough to know what was happening. We know your involvement with the so-called Saints of South Boston, and have no qualms in informing the media."

Dolly paled, and the man smirked.

"We take a particular interest in the case you are currently working, and we would like results, promptly. Do you understand me Detective?"

Dolly nodded rapidly. Sweat was rolling off his brow, and his speech failed him; he felt choked, like his throat was parched and his tongue dry.

"Excellent," he opened the door to the car as it skidded to a halt. "Get out."

~^|*|^~/\~^|*|^~

Dinner was a quiet affair. Far too quiet for Murphy's taste. He could feel the tension between Laura and Connor. Neither looked at each other, and they barely spoke. He knew it wouldn't be too much longer till the situation exploded.

"Would ye pass the salt?" Connor's voice broke the silence. Laura pushed the salt shaker over to him, not looking up from her plate. Murphy saw his brother's jaw clench and he leant back in his chair.

"Who were those men ye were talkin' ta today?"

"Old friends," Laura looked up sharply from her meal, her voice hostile. "What's it to you?"

"Ye don't have ta be so fuckin' tight about it. I'm just tryin' ta look out for you."

"Connor, I'm fine," she insisted, her body tense. "Let it go."

"Ye were nearly killed!" He protested.

"Just fucking leave it alone! I don't want to talk about it!" She viciously stabbed a leaf of lettuce with her fork.

"Ye don't want ta talk about **anything**! Not yer family, not yer Da, not where ye came from-"

"And why the fuck is that any of your business?"

Murphy watched Connor intently as his twin struggled to contain his temper.

"Because you're my friend, and because I care about you damnit!" He took a deep breath. "Laura, I'm worried about ye. Why is it so hard-"

"Well you could try giving me some fucking space! I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself," she stood and dumped her dishes into the sink. They clattered noisily against the other dishes, and Murphy heard something glass break.

"Laura-"

"I need to use your phone."

"What?"

Her voice was cold, her arms crossed across her chest. "I'm either going to use your phone, or your brothers. Or I'll find a pay phone." They stared at each other for a moment, both sets of eyes flinty and unyielding.  
"Fine," he said, giving in and pulled his phone out from his pocket. "But this isn't over."

"It's over Conn, believe me."


End file.
